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lazypeachsoul · 3 years

Text

I wouldn't want to spend a minute lovin' anybody else.

Warnings: this fic has some sad moments and mentions of the blip. also kind of AU because I'm completely ignoring Natasha's canon end.

Word count: 4,2k (i got very carried away with this fic)

Summary: · Meeting the right person at the wrong time can be life changing when it doesn’t work out the way we desire. But if it's meant to be it will always happen, right?

A/N: This is my fic for the "Women of Marvel xReader Exchange" created by @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest . It was created for @im-holding-ontoyou and I hope you like it! gif by @natasharomanovgifs 🌼 ALSO; i haven't watched Black Widow yet so I'm sorry if something in this fic doesn't fit the new info we got about natasha.

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New York, 2015.

When you received the call from one of your bosses that you had a new case you would have never imagined how big that case would turn out to be.

You had been working for one of the most important law firms in New York for a year now, and you were getting kind of used to reading cases that would be narrated in the papers for months. Rich and entitled men, big divorces were they fight over who gets the yacht, one or two murder cases... if it revolved around the powerful people of New York city, your firm would get it.

When you got to the debriefing and were told that Tony Stark, one of the firm's most important clients, asked your team for assistance in the creation of some legislation with the newly created “Advanced Threat Containment Unit” you were more than surprised.

The events that the Avengers had caused (or saved us from, there were different opinions going around) in the small country of Sokovia were known all around the and it was only time before the most powerful officials asked for the regulation of ‘superhero activity’.

You weren’t important enough to actually attend the meetings that took place with the government, seeing as you had only passed your bar exam a little over a year prior, but you were deemed cheerful and nice enough to act as a nexus between the firm and the client.

For months you spent your days talking to Tony Stark and other members of The Avengers trying to explain what was being talked about. The first few meetings were a disaster, seeing as the mood was somber for the lives lost and nobody really understood your legal jargon. But slowly you started to transform your language and really tried to make the meetings as easy as possible for everyone present.

But who were you kidding, they really didn’t care about the meetings or the silly attorney being sent to explain something that was way above their paycheck. Well, at least Stark was gracious enough to set a coffee station with some pastries for the meeting. You were pouring the hot liquid into your to-go cup when your hand jerked and the hot liquid splashed your hand.

You could feel the sting of the burn but avoided further sudden movements trying not to make it worse. Before you could reach for a napkin to clean up the mess you made, a more dexterous and manicured hand reached for them and exchanged the hot cup in your hand for the bunch of papers.

“Careful, Stark always serves boiling coffee. I think it’s to mask that it’s not the best quality.”

You lifted your gaze from your hand and found a pair of deep green eyes gazing back. You would have thought that spending numerous meetings in the company of superheroes would make you less susceptible to their powerful auras, but being this close to Natasha Romanoff made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I found out the hard way.” You joked, lifting your hand a bit. “You would guess one of the richest people in the world would actually serve good coffee...”

Seeing her crack a smile made you feel less tense. Sometimes you forget they are still normal people. Normal people who could kill you with their bare hands and had superhuman powers. She placed your cup on the food table, apparently not bothered by how hot it must have been, and pushed her hand in your direction.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff.” You wrapped your hand around hers and shook it, biting your tongue trying not to tell her of course you knew her name. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself in earlier meetings, we were all trying to come to terms with what had happened.”

“No worries, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for all of you.” You nodded and tried to show her sympathy, trying to avoid thinking about all the lives affected by the fight. “Oh sorry, I’m-”

Natasha quickly cut you off, speaking your name before you could even say it. You could feel your cheeks get warmer at the idea that they actually knew who you were, and she probably could sense your mood change because she quickly explained.

“I know who you are, you send us at least two emails a week about these meetings and FRIDAY always announces you before you arrive.”

“Who announces me?” You asked curiously at the mention of a name you recognized.

“FRIDAY. It’s the name of Stark’s AI technology. It works all around the tower and it’s there to make life easier for everyone.” She explained pointing around at the speakers strategically placed around the room.

“Oh, I get emails from Friday sometimes. Most of them are asking me to translate or explain something about the debriefing because Mr.Stark is not interested in legal terms.” Both you and Natasha laughed at the thought.

But she quickly recomposed and tried to look serious again when she heard her teammates coming in to get ready for the meeting.

“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think we could schedule a meeting so that you could explain some things about the legislation of the A.T.C.U.?” She spoke lower than she had when the two of you were alone and you wondered why she didn’t want her colleagues to know about the meeting.

“Ye-Yeah, of course I can.” You were confused but thought it would be in your best interest, and the firm’s, to say yes to the proposal. And a meeting with a very attractive and definitely interesting woman was not something that happened constantly for you.

“Great, thank you.” She smiled warmly and squeezed your hand that you hadn’t even realized was still wrapped around hers from the introduction. “I can promise you better coffee.”

You could only hum in response, still trying to piece together what she might want from the meeting. But your thoughts were quickly cut off when Stark entered the room and you moved to start the reunion.

During the entire meeting you could feel the dull pain in your hand from the scorching coffee and the feeling of a pair of green eyes watching your every move.

Vienna, 2016.

The situation had only gone downhill from the Battle of Sokovia. The public’s opinion on the Avengers was at an all-time-low and that made terrorist groups bold. They knew that if they struck and caused enough chaos, the blame would fall on the good guys that tried to stop them.

The only thing that seemed to be a stable thing in your life was Natasha. Well, as stable as dating a superhero might be. She was busy a lot, but you understood the importance of her job and you were quite busy too gaining importance within the law firm.

And even if sometimes terrorists and criminals got in the way you still found a moment to spend together, wrapped around each other without having to think about how messed up life was.

You thought Lagos was the blow that would make everything tumble, the Sokovia accords were unveiled and it broke the Avengers, and your girlfriend. You could feel how torn she was at her decision of some of her friends to oppose the signing and go on the run, and her own decision to subordinate to the United Nations mandate. But you realized how small that had been when king T’Chaka was killed at the UN.

You had been at the UN as part of the USA legal team that participated in the writing and monitoring of the accords. Your participation in the negotiations almost broke your relationship but you were able to recover once you explained your position and Natasha actually came to an understanding of it.

Natasha was also in Vienna when everything went down, you hadn’t managed to properly see her because she was one of the signers and they sat at the assembly while other guests sat at the amphitheater watching the retransmission.

You hadn’t been able to properly see her all day, seeing as she took a detour before flying to Austria. You were only able to communicate through texts where you tried to make the situation more comfortable for her and she promised a peaceful european trip to celebrate the signing.

When the bomb went off and all hell broke loose the first thing you tried to do was look for her, she was at the epicenter of the explosion and you just wanted to see if she was okay. You saw her from afar when you were being pushed to the outside of the building while they swiped the perimeter.

She sat with T’Challa before he jumped from the bench and stomped away. Natasha looked around and your gazes crossed, immediately melting away some of the worry. You tried to push your way through the crowd to get to her, but police and security didn’t budge.

You never took your eyes off of her, scared that if you did she would disappear. But she did move her gaze to her phone and the look that crossed her face when she heard the voice at the other side told you it was a very important call.

Once the call was over and she looked at you again you knew that would probably be the last time you would see her in some time. You hadn’t known Natasha as long as some of her colleagues had, but you could proudly say you could understand what she wanted to say with just a look. And the look on her face in that moment read close to a goodbye.

New York, 2018.

It had been two years since the fall of Helmut Zemo and part of the Avengers was still on the run. And it maybe wouldn’t have had that big of an impact on you if it wasn’t because Natasha had also been on the run for that long.

You had heard about what happened at the Leipzig airport and how Natasha had changed alliances to join Captain America’s fight. You had been heartbroken at the news knowing that any resemblance of normality that you still hope for was destroyed.

You had spent months wondering what had made her change her mind. Had she thought about your conversations about the accords? Had she even remembered you, waiting for her back in New York, when she decided to go on the run?

A part of you tried to convince you of how selfish thinking about that was, why would she think about you when the future of her team and friends was at stake? But also you were her girlfriend, she should have thought about the implications that might have had for you.

In those years you had mourned your relationship and after the grieving period you tried to rebuild your life. New friends, a new position and new chances to take. And it went okay...at least until someone opened their mouth to talk about superheroes or The Avengers. Years down the line and it was still on people’s minds.

On special occasions you would receive anonymous gifts at your office or your apartment. The first birthday after the war you sobbed for fifteen minutes when you saw the bunch of flowers. There was no name or indicative of who might have sent them, that was until you looked better at the card and saw the small red hourglass painted in the corner.

The gifts continued. Every case you won, promotion, birthday or holiday a bunch of flowers would be delivered to you with the same note.

In a way it gave you a sense of peace knowing she was okay and still thought of you. But the more you thought about it the angrier you got at how she had left you.

You didn’t expect a message from your boss to run to the Avengers compound and assess some situation between Coronel Rhodes and Thaddeus Ross. Although the team had crumbled, your company was still hired to legally represent the remaining members and moderate situations that might arise with the government.

You entered the compound expecting another bureaucratic complaint about their activity but you found a trickier situation. The meeting room was filled with people you thought you would never see again.

Captain Rogers was sitting on one of the chairs sporting a new look that made you almost not recognize him and a tense demeanor. Next to him was Sam Wilson, looking around at the smallest of movements and trying to assess the situation. Wanda Maximoff was standing on the furthest corner of the room playing with her rings, meanwhile Vision was apparently being checked out for a wound. What kind of wounds a synthezoid could get was beyond your understanding.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, I might have angered Secretary Ross during a meeting.” Rhodey came up to you with a nervous smile.

You had gotten closer to him thanks to your job seeing as he was the one doing the dirty superhero work.

“Yeah, I got that much from the text. Nothing new then.” You tried to joke to diffuse the tension in the room. “It would have been nice to know you had guests though.”

“We are not guests. Last time I checked this was our home too.”

That voice made your blood freeze. You should have expected her there, all her friends had returned and the chance of her being back too was almost 100%. But hearing her voice again after two years was not something you expected.

You bit your tongue before you could talk about how it’s not a home if you abandon it, but decided against it. This was a fight between them, not Natasha and you.

“I need you to work with the government to avoid this situation becoming a disaster.” Rhodey explained and you scoffed.

“Rhodey, I’m a lawyer not a politician. I have as much power in this as you might have.” You tried to lay your point across but it was difficult with all eyes on the interaction. “Hell, I have even less power than you do.”

“Then I need you to distract them enough to get them off our shoulders.” He pressed. “Something big is coming and we need all the strength we can get.”

You thought about it for a moment. If it was true that something big was coming, the Avengers were the best option to fight it.

“I’m in.” You scoffed at his smile and sat down in one of the chairs of the meeting room. “I’m not ready for the world to end yet.”

The meeting went on for a while. You called bosses, government officials and everyone that would listen to your distractions. You sent emails that would flood their inboxes for days so that they couldn’t read any news that might reach them about what the superheroes had in mind.

It was late at night when a cup of steaming liquid was placed next to you. You looked at it and saw that it was some kind of herbal tea, probably made to relax the drinker. You followed the hand that was still holding the mug until you reached Natasha’s face.

You had done your best to ignore her looming presence in the room but now there was no distraction. Looking at her you could see tiredness in her face. She was platinum blonde now, a look that weirdly suited her, but her face still looked as welcoming to you as it always did.

You tried to stop the flashbacks to the last time you saw it in person in Vienna, but they kept replaying in your head until her voice broke you out of the loop.

“I thought you might need it, I remember how nervous calls used to make you.”

She was smiling but you could tell it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I got over it since I got my promotion. Now I spend a long portion of my day making calls.”

She hummed and sat down next two you, but leaving a chair in between you as a safe space.

“I read about it in an article, I sent you flowers to celebrate.”

“I got them. And the Christmas ones. On my birthday too.” You enumerated the times you had gotten the plants in the past two years. “You must have spent an awful amount of money buying me so many flowers.”

“You deserved it, you still do.” She shrugged and that’s when you noticed she had her own mug of warm tea in her other hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate with you.”

You laughed into your mug sarcastically. Out of everything you expected her to say this wasn’t one of them.

“Did you really? Because you didn’t seem to consider me much when you went on the run for two years.”

Natasha paled when she heard your tone. She probably wasn’t used to situations like these but you weren’t going to let her go without an apology at least.

“I was trying to do the best for-”

“-for the world. I get it, Natasha, I do.” You tried to contain your emotions but it was getting harder with every word. “Relationships are supposed to be teamwork. I know you are always too busy playing heroes and I never judged you for that, I just wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me before you disappeared.”

She was silent and knowing Natasha it’s because she was probably overwhelmed with the display of feelings. But she needed to hear how bad you had felt.

After minutes of waiting for an answer from her and getting nothing but sighs you shook your head and looked back at the computer screen.

“I guess it was a case of the right person, wrong time.” You shrugged trying to find distraction in the flurry of letters in your email inbox. “Or at least it was for me.”

She got up from her seat without a word and you grew exasperated. Why had she even approached you if then she wasn’t willing to have an adult, two sided conversation? She was almost at the door when you heard her voice again.

“Please never doubt how much I love you. I made some bad choices but dating you was not one of them.”

New York, 2024.

Time apparently flies by when you are erased from the face of the earth. One day you are in your office working late and the next you appear five years in the future with no recollection of what might have happened.

You were taken by authorities to impromptu camps and one by one examined to check your identities. The entire thing seemed to be something out of one of the dystopian novels you used to read as a teenager.

When it was your turn you gave them all the information you had on what had happened. You had given them your name and personal information and apparently had been a very searched person because the computer started beeping as soon as your name was introduced in the database.

You were moved to a secluded part of the camp and kept in an isolated room for god knows how long. Your stomach was in knots during the entire situation and you could feel the cold sweat on you. That mixed with the metallic taste on your tongue you knew this time your anxiety was justified. You were almost dizzy because of how hard you were thinking about the entire situation and trying to make sense of it.

When you heard the door of the room open you jumped up, discarding on the floor a makeshift blanket that had been placed on your shoulders when you got there. Your legs almost gave out at the movement and your heart felt like it was going to burst out.

The door opened enough for you to see who had been searching for you. Natasha stepped through the door still dressed in her tactic gear and with tiredness written all over her face. But that feeling seemed to almost disappear when she finally saw you.

With quick movements she stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around you tightly. For some reason that action was the trigger that you needed to let all your emotions consume you.

You started sobbing uncontrollably at the unknown. You didn’t understand what happened or how you are here, but feeling her embrace helped you feel safe in a way. It had been years since you last hugged her but it still felt as good as back in 2015.

You could hear Natasha’s soothing shushes in between your sobs and you moved to hold her tighter.

“You are here. I can’t believe I found you again.” She spoke softly and you didn’t know if she was speaking to you or herself. “It’s okay darling. I’m here and I’m not letting you go again. I promise.”

And with that promise a ray of hope made way between all the fear you felt.

Missouri, 2025.

Soft music could be heard all around the ground floor of the house. The soft beat was upbeat enough to get the morning started but not enough to be overwhelming if you had just woken up. You were sitting on the kitchen island looking at the news on your phone and having breakfast.

Mornings were usually very calm around the homestead and you couldn’ be more thankful for that. It allowed you to silently prepare your breakfast and coffee and get a headstart on Natasha’s breakfast too.

Since she had retired, Natasha had discovered a newfound love for sleeping in and you didn’t dare to take that away from her. She deserved it from all the work she had done in her life.

You, meanwhile, tried to get up early to scroll through the cases that you got in your new and smaller job and schedule meetings or emails.

It was a Saturday so work wasn’t a thing and you could actually enjoy your toast and coffee in peace. Or at least until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle and pulled you back against Natasha.

“Good morning baby, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” You could feel her smile when she kissed your cheek from behind. “You weren’t there when I woke up though.”

You shrugged before moving to get a bite out of your toast. Natasha tried to do the same but you quickly moved it away from her with a smile. She tried again and you moved as fast as your reflexes allowed you.

“C’mon baby, give me a bite” “No, it’s my toast. You can make your own.” “But it tastes better when you make it.” “No it doesn’t, don’t be lazy.”

The playful fight continued for a few moments until she got close enough to get a small bit but you moved it again.

“Don’t make me bite you, darling.”

You chuckled at her threat and plopped the remaining toast on the plate in front of you. Breakfast didn’t matter much anymore. You threw yourself into her arms and pressed your lips against hers. It wasn’t a slow and sensual kiss, it was closer to how small kids smooch their parents. But you knew it would convey your love more deeply.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Nat.” You spoke against her lips and squaked when you felt her playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Is now a good time?”

That question had become recurring in your household, a nod to the phrase you said when you found eachother again after being separated the first time.

“I couldn’t think of a more perfect time.”

And you couldn’t. The rest of your life spent in a homestead with your girlfriend and whatever life might bring? It sounded absolutely delightful.

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#natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel x reader

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younghosfavewhore · 3 years

Text

wanna experiment?

[s]

plot; you and yuta experiment in bed.

pairing; hard dom!yuta x sub fem!reader

warnings; MATURE CONTENT!!!, kinda angsty, edging, very smutty, rough, anal, overstimulation, slight exhibitionism, filth ngl

wc; 1.9k

"y/n” yuta calls from the kitchen. “come here.”

his tone was oddly calm, considering the argument that just ensued. it was a typical, petty argument. you got a little too touchy with the other members during an event and he lectured you for it. you explained that you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions, but he would refute and say that you’re his. only his. arguing with yuta was a never-ending battle. there would be times you wouldn’t talk for days after an argument; trudging around the house as each of you waited for the other to apologize. and typically you’d be the one to give in first.

you walk into the kitchen, the sight of yuta hunched casually over the countertop was almost relieving. did he plan on apologizing this time?

“yes?” you say nonchalantly.

“i want to experiment.”

“what?”

“do you know what edging is?”

“edging? as in sex?”

“yes.”

“are you really talking about sex right now? could i at least get an apology for eariler?”

“why would i apologize because you don’t know how to control yourself?”

“what-”

“i’m not apologizing. we’re done talking about it.” he dismisses you. “do you want to experiment with me or not?”

you could hardly believe yuta’s blunt attitude. it was so disappointing, but so typical of him. if you say that you want to do this with him, what do you gain? so much pleasure, you think. no matter how much of a dick he can be, sex with him is fucking amazing, you admitted in your head.

“answer me.” he demands.

but your pride, y/n. you go back and forth in your head. you can’t keep letting him get away with treating you like your feelings don’t matter.

“5...4...3...” he starts to countdown.

fuck.

“i’ll do it.” you finally avow.

“that’s what i figured.” he scoffs. “we’ll do it now, come on.” he grips his hand around your arm and practically drags you to the room.

he closes the door behind you, “on the bed. strip.” he commands without even glancing in your direction. he reaches into his dresser, taking out a black bag.

you start to strip down, still watching as he fidgets with the bag. he pulls out a small storage trunk.

“where’d i put the fucking key...” he mutters to himself. he finally gives you a glance, taking a second to admire your now-nude body. he licks his lips and goes back to raking through his dresser.

he eventually finds the key, he opens the trunk, revealing all sorts of toys; cuffs, vibrators, dildos, some even dual-ended.

“yuta? where did you get that stuff?” your eyes widen.

he doesn’t answer, instead, dumping the trunk out, pouring out even more toys.

“yuta-” you gasp at the sight. you’d known he had a few toys, but this?

“how far do you want to go?” he asks, rooting through the toys, picking a few out of the pile.

you hesitate to answer and he turns to glare at you.

“hello? how far?” he repeats.

“i-im not sure...” you say as your eyes still scan the mound of toys in front of him.

he sighs and rolls his eyes. “safe word is ‘eleven’” he stands up, walks towards the bed and places a few toys on the dresser; a few vibrators, lube, plug, and the cuffs. “ass up.” he mutters, grabbing a condom and walking towards you.

you do as he says, flipping onto all fours and propping your ass up.

he places a hard smack on your ass, rubbing and watching it as it turns red.

“i won’t be too rough. you can’t handle it,” you took someone offense, but ultimately he was right. “but i won’t be gentle.”

he grabs one of the vibrators, a blue egg-like shape. he grabs the lube next to it, pouring it along two of his fingers. he glides his fingers around your butthole, placing another smack on your ass cheek.

“so tight... you’ve never been fucked in your ass, have you?”

you shake your head, “no...”

“good; nice and tight. i want to be the first to stretch it.” he whispers.

he gets on his knees behind you, grabbing the lube and the silvery-pink butt plug next to it. he applies the lube to the plug, grazing it against your asshole.

“you’re gonna stretch; it’s gonna hurt at first. ‘eleven’, remember?” you nod, you appreciated how yuta could walk you through these things, even though he’s mean to be rough, he still has that soft aura to him.

he slowly slips a finger into your asshole. the feeling was slightly unpleasant, not painful, just new. you could feel his finger plunge deeper into you, squirming as to not slip out. you whimper a bit at the new feeling. yuta moves a finger to your clit, giving it a few flicks and watching your hole clench around his digit.

“i’ll add another.” his tone sounded bored, uninterested; but his hands told a different story. his hands were busy as they explored you.

he adds another finger, slipping the slick digit into your tense hole. the discomfort began to subside, the feeling still wasn’t exactly pleasure, but you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it. he pumps his fingers into you faster, still squirming them. you let out a slight moan when his other hand drops back to your clit, pinching the small nub between his fingers.

he grabs the blue vibrator, turns it on, and presses it against your clit. at the same time, he inserts the butt plug. the sudden stimulation shakes you and a loud moan spews from your mouth.

“not too loud, baby...” he whispers, gliding the vibrator up and down your slit.

“yuta...” you moan at the unfamiliar pleasure. he turns the vibrator up to the next setting, “f-fuck!” you exclaim.

he slowly starts to move the plug, you had nearly forgotten it was there. “you like this don’t you... when i treat you like my toy?” he smirks.

“y-yes... i love it,” he places another hard smack on your ass, causing you to lose the arch in your back, almost thrashing. “i’m close.” you whimper.

“mmm,” he grumbles, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit.

your seconds away from your orgasm, your eyes already clamping shut. just then, he pulls the vibrator away. edging. you remember. fuck.

he chuckles when you whimper. he watches your pussy clench, obviously disappointed at the loss.

“you could barely handle that. can you take more?” he taunts, but at this point you were desperate.

you nod, the pleasure was too good to deny; and you needed more.

“flip over.” he says.

it wasn’t until now that you acknowledged the plug again. laying on your back, the plug had a new angle, which again, wasn’t exactly unpleasant. you lie face up on your back. yuta is quick to hover over you, opening your legs and placing pecks along your neck. you bring your hand up to his hair, but he moves it away. “no touching.” he says bluntly. you obey, pulling your hands to the side of your head. just as you do so, he reaches beside you and grabs the cuffs; another delight you’d forgotten about. they weren’t the fun, furry kind, instead they were solid gray in color and heavy, it made you wonder,

“are these real?” you ask as he locks them in place, setting the key on the nightstand.

he doesn’t answer, he just smirks. he drops his hands down to squeeze at your breasts. “before i forget...” he interrupts himself and reaches to the nightstand, “blindfold?” he asks, holding up a black blindfold.

you nod and he slips it over your head, covering your eyes.

his lips immediately meet your nipples, latching onto the soft flesh. you weren’t sure why, but the lack of your senses only made you want him more. his other hand toyed with your other breast, pinching and rubbing it.

the movement suddenly stops, you feel the bed dip beside you, meaning he was grabbing something off of the dresser again. “here,” he uncuffs one of your hands. he places something in your hand, it’s soft but firm; a dildo. “use this,”

“but i can’t see...” you stammer.

“you don’t need to.” he whispers. you hear him stand up and his zipper unzipping.

you drop the dildo down to your folds, gliding it over them and feeling your juices seep down onto the bed. you slide it into you, at the same time he turns on the vibrator, pressing it to your clit again. you wail out, your back arching upwards at the sudden rush of pleasure. he slides his fingers into your mouth.

“fuck, yu-yuta...” you groan, grinding yourself against the vibrator ever so slightly; as you grind you push the plug deeper into you; all of your wholes being filled.

“you’re so fucking sexy,” he growls. you assume that he’s finally touching himself. “so tempted to fuck you... so desperate. you want more don’t you?”

“yes,” you moan. “i need you, please..”

“fuck...” he growls, admiring the sight of you pumping the dildo in and out of you.

he rips off your blindfold and you are met with the sight of his nude body, amazing as ever. he yanks the dildo out of you, still keeping the vibrator pressed against your clit.

he cuffs your hand and slips a finger inside of you, pumping it at an inhuman pace. you attempt to grab onto him as you near your climax but the restraints don’t allow you to.

“i’m so close, please...” he glares into your eyes.

he pulls his hands away from you, taking away his fingers as well as the vibrator. “too needy,” he grunts.

he throws the blue vibrator to the side, reaching to grab the longer, white, wand-like one from the dresser. he positions himself in front of you. he immediately thrusts into you, pressing the vibrator against your throbbing clit. you both let out lustful sounds; nothing could compare to the way yuta filled you up. you cry out his name, unable to say much more. he hovers over you, glaring down at you. his eyes were hooded and thick with lust. this look was what made sex with yuta all the better. his cock slams in and out of you, your vision blurred. the stimulation from tonight’s events all coming down at once. his pace was quick and enough to leave you breathless. his hands move down, gripping your hips and you can tell he’s close. he presses the vibrator harder against you, glaring at your face admiring how it contorts at the stimulation.

“so fuckin’ sexy...” he repeats.

his thrusts speed up and become messier, until he finally lets out that familiar snarl letting you know that he’s finally coming. he doesn’t pull out, instead emptying himself inside of you. with this, you finally release. the sensation coming over you a million times stronger than you’d expected.

your vision goes black and white as your eyes roll back into your head. you’re not even sure what words spill out of your mouth, just filthy murmurs and whimpers. the reminder of your restricted hands and filled ass come back as you orgasm, intensifying it. the orgasm lasted long, and yuta fucked into you throughout it. this man will be the death of me. you think.

you both finally come down. yuta uncuffs you and pulls out the plug before sliding out of your oozing pussy. you both end up too weak to move another muscle, your bodies sprawl out on the bed. no words are said, until yuta finally breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry.” he smirks. “forgive me?”

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keichanz · 3 years

Text

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed's art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

#mistake #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #inukag #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction #papayasha to the rescuuuuue #i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why #and yes i did use sharaku because it sounds like naraku #listen dont fuck with his wife or kid #you will die #if you dont understand that last sentence #tough shit im not explaining it lmao

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ohholyfanfics · 3 years

Text

Ten Stages: Stage One| Tom Holland

Stage One: Realization, the stage where they slowly start to realize that they are falling for someone. Where Tom has a sudden realization thanks to his best mate Harrison Osterfield.

She was running late, a bit later than usual. Checking his watch once more, Tom found himself humming along to the slightly over-played tone filling the car. The hot Virginia sun causes sweat to form on his forehead; reaching over, he quickly switched the AC settings knowing she'd complain the moment she got inside the car. Biting his bottom lip, he felt a wave of relief wash through him as he watched her walk out of the building. Hair in a neat ponytail, her figure hugged by a dress that looked way too good on her. Her light pink blazer rested on her arm as she waved goodbye to a colleague before making her way over to his car.

"Ah always a gentleman.." she hummed in approval watching as he swiftly got out of the car and opening her door.

Giving her his signature boyish grin, he leaned close to her, placing a soft kiss onto her cheek. Closing her door, she couldn't help but roll her eyes, watching as he climbed back in. Tom watched as she fiddled with the climate control on her side from the corner of his eyes.

"You sure you aren't going through menopause or something.." he mumbled, backing out of the spot and soon driving them towards their weekly lunch date.

"Isn't that your job to know.." she hummed, pulling her phone out from her bag. "Plus, I think I'm a bit to young for that Thomas.." she mumbled.

"Well aren't you a doctor.." he huffed out as she took this chance to slap him across the head. The loud groan that escaped his lips was enough the have a satisfied sigh escaping her own.

"Besides the point Holland, how was the first half of work? Any life saving surgery?"

He shrugged, he loved what he did, and every day, he was thankful for it. Sure it was hard work to get where he was now, but here he stood. Now three years into residency, he had somewhat of an idea of what he wanted to do. After learning that a position would be opening up at the hospital, he knew this is where he was meant to be.

"Not really, pretty slow today.."

She nodded her head; Tom was a bit further along than she was. He was nearing the end of his term and now had a whole different set of pressure resting on his shoulders.

"A spot is opening up at the hospital though.." he mumbled once they were seated at the country club—the same country club where they had first been introduced.

"Wow Tom, are you gonna apply?" She asked with wide eyes. They hadn't talked much about his plans after med school; she knew he had some sort of idea of staying local. "Is it in the department you're in now?"

"Um it's actually in the trauma department.." he stated as she nodded her head. This was the first time he was actually voicing his future plans with her. It wasn't that he kept her in the dark or that she felt entitled in being informed. Tom was her best friend, and she just wanted to support him in any way possible.

"Wow that's huge.." she stated as he nodded his head. He knew she had been seeing or talking to some guy from the hospital. It was possibly the first time since March that she had actually gone out on a date. Tom doesn't know if she went on a date or if they even still talked.

"Not sure if it's something I want though."

Y/N knew that was a code for closing that conversation, so she did just that. In an instant, their discussion switched to the fact that she will be gone for a few days. Tom had promised to look after her place along with being on dog sitter duties for Layla. He hummed softly as she basically gave him a tiny little run down of her short weekend trip and promising takeout the moment she's back. He knew it was a code word for debriefing after spending a few days confined with her family members.

"Harrison's coming down right?" She asked once they were seated at their usual table. "He texted me asking if I'll be around.."

"Yeah, he's staying a couple days.." he mumbled, eyes scanning the menu though it was kinda pointless. He already knew both their words.

"Hmm, it'll be good for you." She mumbled, clearing her throat. As much as y/n hated to admit, she knew this time was difficult for any medical student. The ending was nearing, and the sudden pressure to have everything set in stone was terrifying. However, she knew as much as anyone that Tom was in a much different mindset than when they first met.

The Tom Holland sitting before her was different; he had a future planned out for himself. Sure, he didn't plan ahead like she had, but the small amount he did was a great start. She also knew that pushing him into making decisions was never an intelligent choice; Tom knew what he wanted and had all the necessary tools to pursue whatever it was he wanted in life. One thing she was clear on was that he was staying in Virginia.

"Can I ask you something.."

She looked up at him nodding her head. His tone was slightly different, closer to the one he used the morning after their last candle and wine night. The same night where she may have cried a bit too much in his guest room.

"That night at the beach, when when we made the bet, where you in a sense preparing yourself? You know, for like the breakup?" He asked softly, thanking the waiter as they set their drinks down.

She looked at him a little dumbfounded, not really knowing what to say. She knew what she had to say, but the words couldn't seem to come out. She looked at him for a few seconds, mind racing before finally speaking.

"No, I wasn't. If I'm being completely and utterly honest with you Tom, I thought Marc was maybe the one. We were together for so long and everything was so close to perfect. I don't think I really ever saw us ending.."

He nodded his head, ignore the slight sting upon hearing those words, not that he was surprised. It hurt him to know that something that she believed in so desperately ended without any explanation. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she was feeling or what she thought the moment everything sunk in. However, Tom also knew y/n was a lot stronger than everyone gave her credit for.

"Have you talked to him?"

"No, he didn't answer the first couple of texts I sent. So I guess I kinda got the hint you know. I'm not necessarily bothered by it, I mean I was in the beginning but now it kind feels numb."

"Shouldn't you like talk to a professional love.." he mumbled as she smiled at him softly. "I know it's in a sense traumatizing.."

"Don't worry doctor, I talk to my shrink about it. Im kinda coming to terms with the fact that maybe we weren't meant to be.." she mumbled as he nodded her head. "I just, I'm focusing on myself and getting through all this. If love comes my way it comes my way..."

"How knows darling, the one might be right under your nose." He chuckled, leaning over to bop her on the nose. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, watching her nose scrunch up and eyes crinkle up.

"God I hate you sometimes.."

It's been two days since Y/N had left for New Hampshire on a small family getaway. As much as she wanted to drag him along, and as much as Tom hated to admit it, a weekend with the Y/L/N sounded pretty amazing; Harrison finally got some time off and was coming to visit. He was had just finished stocking his fridge with a few essential items the two would need before the door open and the sound of barking welcomed the blond inside the townhouse.

He couldn't help the sense of familiarity that washed over him seeing his best friend come into view. Tom hated to admit it, but he needed to see him, more than he could like to admit. After a hug that might have lasted a few seconds longer, they were both drowning in beer and one of Harrison's favorite dishes made by y/n.

"Where is our own personal pyschatrists anyways?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

"Went up north to visit family, something about get together or whatever.."

Harrison nodded his head, picking at the label on his beer. The two had done a decent amount of catch-up, but he couldn't seem to notice the lack of mention of his neighbor.

"Marc must be happy to see her.." Harrison mumbled as Tom tensed up at the name. He wasn't sure what Harrison did and didn't know. "I actually ran into him a few days ago."

Tom choked slightly on his beer as he looked back at him at a loss. He wrecked his brain on what he could say but kept coming out short. The one thing coming to mind was just blurring out how Marc suddenly stopped responding without an explanation. How he suddenly can't stop thinking about their stupid bet, and how every day the chances of becoming a reality increase.

"Mate, they aren't together anymore..."

"Stop bullshitting me Holland, Marc looked very much in love with her when I asked him how things were between them.."

Tom couldn't help but scoff, thinking back to the night she had shown up with too many bottles of wine and a broken heart.

"Mate he ghosted it, thats a pretty funny way of showing your love."

"Fuck, I had no idea."

"No one did mate."

The past few days were pleasant and relaxing; the two spent time together. Harrison was just what time needed, and within the short few days Harrison was there, Tom realized a couple of things:

One that he couldn't possibly live without both Y/N and Harrison in his life.

Two that he was going to take the position at the Trauma Department.

"Thomas Stanley did you miss me..." she giggled softly as he brought her into a bone-crushing embrace. The sigh that escaped his lips was overwhelming.

Maybe, you don't see her as just a friend, mate. I don't do half of the shit you do with her, with Jessica.."

"Shut up, Y/N.." he mumbled, slightly pushing her away while shaking Harrison's voice out of his head. "I got that wine you told me about.."

"Yum, it's good." she stated as she took a seat at the island. He couldn't help but smile as she leaned over, smelling the candle he had picked out. "Cactus Bloom?"

"Its a good debriefing scent, not too intesne.."

I don't bother to memorize small insignificant facts about just some random girl, not even if we're close. I'd understand a few minor details, but not all.

She watched as he poured them both a glass before handing her a plastic spoon and pushing a carton of takeout towards her. She hummed in appreciation, sending him a wink.

"So how was your few days with Harrison?" she asked, swirling the pasta around. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing, says the kids say he speaks funny.."

"He does speak funny, you both do.." she hummed, locking eyes with him and a wide grin. "But its a cute funny.."

"Funny."

She hummed, sending him a wink before taking a few more sips of her wine. He sighed, leaning back in his seat as he took a good look at her. She looked different; she was happier, lighter even. It was clear these few days away did good on her, and he was glad.

You notice the little things about her Tom, from the color of her nails to when her mood shifts. No one reads that deep unless they fancy someone.

"I'm gonna take the spot in the truma department.."

Her lips formed an 'O' before launching herself into his arms. Her lips lightly brushing the skin against his neck, causing his arms to hold her a little tighter.

Now tell me, Holland, how does she make you feel? Don't hold back anything Tom, it's me. You can be honest, mate. Do you fancy Y/N?

"God, Tommy I'm so happy for you.."

The way her eyes sparkled caused a storm to awaken within him. His heart was beating a bit too fast, the sudden urge to pull her into a kiss. The feeling was overwhelming as she started to ramble still in his embrace.

It was at that moment that the realization kicked in. Tom Holland was starting to fall for his best friend, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Taglist:

@thenoddingbunny-blog @blueberrynonnie @bi-lmg

#Tom Holland #tom holland imagine #Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland fanfics #Tom Holland fanfiction #Tom Holland fanfictions #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fics #Tom Holland one shot #Tom Holland one shots #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland oneshots #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland au #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader

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wornoutmouse · 4 years

Text

This is for all my self conscious thicc girls out there! Or even any girls that have weight issues with themselves

Day 15: Face Sitting

You were currently curled up on your bed, hiding under the covers as you scrolled through your phone. As much as it was hard to admit, you were hiding from your boyfriend Tanaka. He didn't do anything wrong in theory, you just noticed a few things have changed since you moved in together.

Ever since quarentine started, it's been hard for you two stay in shape since you got all your exercise from walking to work and to many of Tanaka's volleyball practices. But now there was nothing for you to do after you got layed off and the gym closed.

Because of this and the full course meals you two have been preparing, you had gained alot of weight. Your stomach bulged out hiding your punani from veiw, and you legs had doubled in size.

During this weight gain, you had noticed Tanaka's lingering gaze on your thighs whenever you sat down near him. And the way he would slowly but surely grab hold of your love handles whenever you two were cuddling unnerved you greatly.

Getting intimate had lessened as time went on.

Amongst yourself, you had scowled when you realised that throughout all that weight gain, none of it went to your breasts or buttocks, leaving you with thicc thighs and no ass. You tense as you hear the bedroom door creak open and Tanaka plop down besides you

"Babe I'm bored!" He whined and you giggle as you feel arms wrap around you through the blanket. "What do you want me to do Tana?" Pulling the blanket down, you peek up at your boyfriend with curious eyes as he glances down at you with adoration and.....something else.

"Why don't we...have some fun?" You weren't really paying attention to the tone of his voice so you continued on, "Hmmm what would you like to do then baby?" If you were paying attention, you would have noticed how Tanaka's breathing became slower and his hands started to feel around the blanket to find at least a sliver of skin.

You giggle as Tanaka bends over and kisses your face starting from your cheek, then your lips, and ending along the beginning of your neck. "I want you." You tense a little and laugh awkwardly. "Uh anything else?" Tanaka straightened up and looked at you questioning. "Is there something wrong?"

You hid your face in the blanket not wanting to have this conversation. You know it's best to communicate in a relationship but you felt silly for feeling this way so you never wanted to talk about it. "Hmm, is it that you don't feel like having sex?" Tanaka smiled, "That's fine babe, I don't need to penetrate you to feel good, can I just eat you out?"

You pondered at the thought, what would the harm in that be? "Yeah I'd like that." You respond shyly making Tanaka smirk, "Of course you would, making me do all the work while you just relax!" Your eyebrows furrowed at that last comment and you couldn't help the way your face shrunk in to itself at the thought of people considering you lazy.

Thinking more and more, you couldn't help but wonder if Tanaka would hate to have your weight on top of him. What if you smothered him? Hell you took great care of yourself regarding your baths but what if you didnt smell much less taste appetizing?!

Internally, you came to the decision to just lay down and have Tanaka in-between your legs instead of you on top.

Tanaka looked at you for a moment, well he was really looking at your thighs, and once again you're hit with an overwhelming sense of shame as you flex your legs wishing you could hide them inconspicuously. Coming to a decision Tanaka lays down flat on the bed. You stare confused at what was going on in that moment.

"Tana?" You ask poking his sides slightly. "You know you don't have to hide from me ya'know" Tanaka raises up and grabs your waist pulling you ontop of him. You lift yourself slightly not wanting to put your full weight into him.

"I see the way you look at yourself Y/N and I don't like it." Tanaka says calmly as he takes in your agitated features. "I'm sorry." You mutter cause him to shake his head. "There's nothing for your to be sorry for. I'm your boyfriend, it is my job to help your in any way I can when your need it!"

Tanaka shifts slightly making you giggle as you're lifted up with him. "Okay, so what does the doctor suggest?" You ask teasingly. Tanaka smirks and lays back down, "The doctor request that you sit on his face." You recoil at that, "Bubs I don't think that's a good idea-" Tanaka finger wags in your face, "Doctor knows best."

You roll your eyes but hesitantly remove your underwear, bracing for the worst, before slightly positioning yourself over your boyfriend's face barely low enough for him to reach you without straining his neck. You jump as you feel a warm muscle follow the expanse of your heat.

Tanaka's hands trail down your back squeezing your ass. You blush as you look down and see him staring intensely back up at you. "You're too high." He he sighed, giving up on coaxing you down through pleasure.

You spread your legs more coming down just a bit so you're almost enveloping his mouth. Tanaka isn't exactly satisfied but he decides to move on as to not push you too far, too soon. You shiver as you feel his tongue slide up your entrance, circling around your clit.

You couldn't help but feel embarrassed everytime you looked down as you watched Tanaka eat you out like a man starved yet the whole time he never ceased eye contact.

In Tanaka's mind, he was doing his part in showing you how much he loves you and no matter how you see yourself, you are still going to be his beautiful wifey. With his eyes and ears, he took in every hitch and every twitch that your body released as he brought you closer to Nirvana.

Feeling yourself get close, you shift and bring yourself away. As much as you wanted to come, you didn't feel like you'd be able to hold yourself up any longer. "That's good enough Tana.." your stutter as you try to find purchase on the headboard.

Tanaka smirks but you're unable to see it over the small swell of your stomach and thighs. Looping his arms under and over your legs, Tanaka uses all his strength and forces you down on his face, moaning at your scent invading his senses, and sweet taste coating his mouth.

Before you could object or even try to control the amount of weight being put on your lover, Tanaka begins his feast, eating you in every sense of the word. "Tana.." you moan unsure on what to do with your hands so you settle with gripping his head as you bared down on his sinful tongue.

Tanaka was in heaven as he watched you come undone and release all the stress you had allowed to accumulate for the last couple of months. He pushed his tongue in and out of you as he used the point of his nose to place teasing circles on your clit.

You were happy to admit that this was the best head you had gotten in a long while. Losing all shame you rocked your hips humping your boyfriend's head encouraging him to suck faster. You finally come hard as Tanaka gently takes your clit in between his teeth and grinds soft circles with your soft bud.

You tremble as he licks up your release before allowing you to pull off and away. Sliding down to his crotch, your stare down at him breathing hard, and take in his features. And if you were being honest, he looked more fucked out than you with his blown out eyes and mouth covered in your fluids.

"Thank you." You mumble using tissue to help wipe his face trying not to wheeze in embarrassment as he attempts to lick up the mess you made. "Anything for you mamas." He shrugs before pulling you closer in a warm embrace. "Im sorry for making you worry." Tanaka shushed you, "Nah, your human, I'd be worried if you didn't have any doubts during this shitty quarentine."

Tanaka pulls away and looked at you with adoring eyes, "Babe if you ever have doubts, you can talk to me about it. Or if your not comfortable, I'm sure you have others to talk to about as well. It's not always good to keep things bottled up."

Tanaka stands up and stretches his sore arms as he walks towards the door.

"Besides, I like em thick."

#black y/n #kinktober #blackreader #haikyū!!#haikyuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka x reader #haikyuu x black reader

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jtrbluv · 3 years

Text

hell-ish | pjm

summary: can be read as a separate oneshot or a continuation of ‘we’re not really strangers’“

“But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time? … Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.“

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, humor, establisedrelationship!au

word count: 7.7k+

warnings: profanity (they are beyond terrified), inaccurate depictions of amusement park shenanigans, neurotic clowns (but they’re acting)

A/N: IM SO SRY ITS LITERALLY NOT EVEN HALLOWEEN ANYMORE GOODBYE DD; in my defense they typically have these typa things open after halloween ends... miss rona just isn’t allowing it this year ofc ;w; a special thanks to @viopera , @koushiningg, and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon for letting me use their likeness, i love u all. and i hope you enjoy this late halloween fic right before thanksgiving break!

The car rolls to a smooth stop. The man in the driver’s seat puts the car into park—turning towards you while placing a reassuring hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, a small close-lipped grin painting across his features, “you excited?”

You reposition in your seat so you can face him, or more specifically, your best-friend-turned-lover—the sight of him smiling causes you to elicit one of your own, your nerves slightly subsiding.

“I am actually,” you admit, “how long has it been? Six? Seven years?”

“Around there I think, but we should probably get going. The lines are probably going to be stupid long like always,” he suggests, his hand leaving your thigh only to ruffle the hair on top of your head, "Here's to new memories Y/N."

You step out onto the pavement—the crisp, cold night air nipping at your cheeks and nose. The cooler temperature serving as a reminder that winter was yet to come and autumn was about to come to a close. You form an O-shape with your mouth, exhaling sharply and seeing your own breath swirling and blending into the air around you.

Footsteps approach you from the side as you shut the car door. Your head whips around to see Jimin walking towards you with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In response, your eyes playfully loll back, a stream of air huffing out of your nose.

You shift your focus back towards in front of you, eyeing the roller coaster that intimidatingly loomed beyond the fence of the park, the drop tower that appeared just as high, and the other neighboring attractions that towered significantly enough to be seen from afar. The whole stretch of the park emitted a red glow, from what you could assume was from the large-scale lighting and technology that was spread out across the expanse.

A soft hand slides its way from your forearm down to your palm, intertwining all in one smooth motion. It was warm and comforting much unlike your frozen, almost entirely numb ones.

“Someone’s a little cold aren’t they,” he teases, using his other hand to attempt to rub more warmth into yours.

“You know my hands are chronically cold,” you pointedly whine, causing small clouds of air to shoot out of his mouth and nose due to his laughter.

He locks the car and you two begin making your way towards the entrance—from what seemed like a mile, in reality, was only a block away. There was practically no gap in between the two of you the entire time, taking advantage of each other’s body heat amidst the numbingly cold weather.

The wait wasn't too shabby, but you knew it was because time always seemed to pass by so much faster when you were with him, most of the pastime consisting of talking about how your past week has been, the fuckton of assignments you two had gotten, and the dangerously high intakes of caffeine you two had consumed as per usual.

The conversation ceased after a while, and it was just the two of you pressed side to side in comfortable silence, hands still intertwined. It was interesting to see such a vast variety of ages all around you—the most common age range were teenagers or people of the same age as the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise. After getting past the ticket booth and security check, you

two finally make it inside.

The first thing you notice is the large, antique carousel that hadn’t changed in the tiniest bit since the last time you were here.

The meticulously decorated entrance—brought to life by the fire torches, heavy-duty fog machines that didn't allow one to see after 10 feet ahead of them, bright lights that were replaced by either no lights at all or a faint red tint, and just the whole ambiance—had greatly juxtaposed the simplicity and familiarity of the carousel that stood in the eye of it all.

The heat of the fire torches allow you to regain some warmth back into your body—you create a small gap in between you and Jimin, in which he pouts and lifts your intertwined hands up to his face, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.

“So, where do you wanna go first?” He asks, swinging your arm back and forth after passing through the gates.

“I’m fine with whatever,” you enunciate a bit loudly, the usual noises of amusement park shenanigans hindering your hearing.

“You sure about that?”

You click your tongue, “Jimin please, I’m a college student now, not a puny 8th grader anymore,” you argue, watching him turn away as he tries to stifle his laughter, “I swear!”

“Alright! Alright! I’ll believe you,” he eventually caves, frantically waving his hand to dismiss your concerns, “But I won’t believe you until I see it.”

“Oh, so we’re gonna play that game huh,” you retort, brows furrowing as a smirk creeps across your face, “Alright, so what do you think about riding that?” You ask innocently, motioning up towards the drop tower that forced one to crane their neck all the way back just to see the top.

You break your focus as you look back down and turn towards him to gauge his reaction. His jaw dropping down to his knees—eyes widened in complete bafflement and horror.

“Y/N. I am literally going to fucking die if I ride that shit. Oh my god.”

“What do you mean? It’s totally safe! I’ve been on it so many times.” You attempt to console him, knowing it’s futile because of the piercing glare he gives you right after you say that.

“And that’s supposed to make it better how?!"

You soothingly rub the back of his hand in an attempt to ease his nerves, “Of course I won’t push you if you don’t want to, you know.”

He sighs, “Well, now you’re just making me sound like a puny 8th grader.”

“I can assure you that you very much, are not Chim.” And he smirks at that, tightening his grip on your hand, making you wish that you didn't give him that ego boost in the first place because he surely didn’t need any more of that.

You take some time to mull over your options, but instead, go with whatever your gut feeling was initially leaning towards, “Okay, so what if every time you take me to a house, I have to take you on a ride. You get to choose the house and I get to choose the ride.”

He nods in acknowledgment, “I’m listening.”

“Does that sound valid?” You inquire.

He bites on his bottom lip, taking a moment to quickly cogitate between the options you had given him, and at last, he nods, "It sounds like a win-win."

"Or a lose-lose." You chuckle, and he mirrors.

He shakes his head, “I know you like rollercoasters and all that scary shit, but there’s also a ton of stuff that they’ve added since we’ve last been here.” He replies, thinking out loud, while making you feel more content with your decision, “You got a deal ma’am.” He affirms at last—releasing his grip to offer you his hand to seal the deal, in which you confirm resolutely by shaking it.

Just like he said, the amusement park most definitely stepped up their game ever since you both were middle schoolers, navigating the large expanse with a bunch of other measly and equally puny peers.

The deeper you two make your way into the park, the more themed attractions lined the path. At this point, you could barely make out the bottom half of your legs due to the thickness of the fog. Actors were running around left and right—faces decorated with FX makeup that you could barely discern because of the dim lighting—effectively scaring others, clear by the amount of ear-splitting shrieks you've heard in the past ten minutes that was enough to make your eardrums burst.

Jimin takes note of your slight tenseness. He wasn't oblivious and he knew that you were trying to feign nonchalance—but the razor-tight grip on his hand and lack of chatter on your end was saying otherwise. But just like everything you do, he thought it was cute anyway.

He promptly squeezes your hand, making you turn to face him, "Do you want the first pick?"

You hum, "You can have it if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yess," you drag out exasperatedly, "how many times do I have to tell you that I'll be perf– !" You abruptly halt as a zombie (that very much isn't real is what you keep reminding yourself) whizzes past you, brushing against your shoulder and making you jump and trip over your own two feet.

The man beside you is quick to react—leaping in front of you with his arms out so you could fall into his grasp. And you do, gripping his arms to better steady yourself and stand up. As you attempt to straighten yourself out, your head sinks into his chest, laughter erupting out of the two of you to the point where his knees almost give out.

You detach yourself from his chest, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from laughing so goddamn much. Finally regaining your poise, you immediately slip your fingers back in between his. He cards a hand through his locks with his remaining hand while taking deep breaths.

While tugging him away from where you two were standing to avoid another ruckus... granted that you were at a haunted amusement park, you shout into foggy air, "I'm fine, I'll be fine Jimin! Let's go!", hoping that maybe if you spoke it out into the world, you could manifest it into being true.

Well, weren’t you wrong.

A rare and near impossible feat is what you were able to accomplish: forcing Jimin to make a decision. Despite him already being a trademark libra, you always believed that one of his most standout and consistent libra-esque traits was the fact that he was so indecisive. To which had resulted in him forcing you to make decisions instead of him most of the time, whether they had been trivial or not.

The moment you realized that this "feat" wasn’t much of a feat, after all, was when you two had finally reached the entrance of the first haunted attraction he had chosen, his impulsive and most likely ulterior-motivated driven decision causing you to retract all preceding moments in which where you were being stubborn and indignant in him making the first pick.

Just your luck, his explanation behind his decision (and your almost near-death experience) is that he says and you quote, “Start off with a bang! We get the worst over with now so it’s all smooth sailing for the rest of the night. Trust me.”

For some context, you had a very rational fear of clowns. The year of 2016 was already bad enough as it was—a time in which you had gotten out of your first serious relationship, afterward giving yourself the most horrendous haircut in your entire life because you were emotionally strung and the scissors… well they just happened to be within an arm’s reach.

Later on in said year when you had become a junior and assignments had been piling up higher and higher without any shits given whatsoever, your minuscule fear of clowns had been blown out of all proportions—ultimately fueled by the number of clown sightings around your town and one altercation that you still think about until this day. Four years later, you can still vividly recall the time where you were coming home after studying all day at the local library and on the other side of the street, you had spotted a clown—feet planted to the cement sidewalk, body immobile besides their head that would keep its focus on you as you continuously made your way down the street. As you began to quicken up your pace, the clown began to reciprocate your actions from across the way, and you came to the conclusion that you didn’t really wanna die that night so you sprinted the entire rest of the way home.

And here you two were, at the front of the line standing behind the black curtain entrance—next to a rugged wood sign with the words, CLOWNEUROTICS, inscribed with a dripping, rich red liquid which you surmise was fake blood and not Kool-Aid.

“I cannot believe I let you have the first pick and you do this to me” You quip, chewing the chapped skin of your lips, breath shallow and bated.

“Y/N, you’ll be just fine. I’ll be here right beside you, remember?” he assures you once more, giving you another tight squeeze on your hand.

The curtains swish open, the employee in a simple all-black ensemble motioning the two of you to come inside. You close your eyes, taking one deep and steady inhale before stepping in.

You can barely make out your surroundings, let alone Jimin, who was standing right beside you. The worker’s voice hollers over the deafening noises of the tent. “Follow the path, don’t go backwards, or else you'll hold up the line. And you see that green light?” He asks while pointing to the tiny green bulb that was down the hallway in front of you, “Take a right from there.”

Jimin replies, knowing that you’re too fear-stricken to form coherent sentences at the moment, “Alright, thanks.”

The man nods, and Jimin tugs on your hand as he begins to walk forward. You follow closely behind, reminding yourself to take breaths before you flat out lose consciousness.

As you reach the end of the hallway and the green light bulb the man mentioned, Jimin pauses and turns around to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, I know you hate my guts right now, but I’m sorry in advance and just know that I love you, okay? You have full permission to torture me after this.” He reassures with a wide grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you grumble, lips downturned and head hanging low.

You feel his soft lips graze over your cheek, leaving a chaste peck before giving you an airy, irresistible smile that you can’t really help but relent, even though it already feels like your heart is about to implode on itself.

Taking a right, the setting of the attraction comes into periphery. White walls and floors—reminiscent of a hospital, are tainted with blood, a disarray of medical equipment, and severed body parts. You take notice of the vacant hospital beds, sheets crumpled and stained with red. Framed pictures of medical staff were hanging by loose nails, glass shattered, bloody splatters and smears all over the frames, walls, and white tile.

You two reach a doorway, next to one of the hinges was a sign that clearly said, Psychiatric Ward. Well, I guess that explains the neurotics part.

In an attempt to swallow down some of the fear in your throat, you tighten your grip on Jimin’s hand while opting to slither your remaining hand around his bicep.

He takes notice of your actions that were propelled by your increasing fear, and naturally, he can’t help but feel bad, “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He tells you, shaking you out of your slight daze, “You can hold onto me the whole time and stick your head in my shoulder just like you did years ago, I won’t mind,” he teases while booping your nose.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with, please.” You huff out, determined to somehow put on maybe not a brave, but a braver face than what he expects from you.

You manage to fail in a whopping, record-breaking, ten seconds of going inside.

The first jumpscare was so entirely predictable—the thunderous pounds against the wall, the trudging and supposedly neurotic clowns (although clowns are already neurotic enough as they are) had all built up suspense until a head of a clown had shot up from around the corner. Their usual clown features distorted with gashes in their skin and blood dribbling out of the corners of their mouth, clothes ripped and stained. Your entire body violently spasms, a shrill shriek, and an embarrassingly long string of curses leave your lips in a matter of mere seconds.

You don’t even notice the man you’re holding onto folding over in laughter because the clown is still very much still following you even after you turn the corner, but before you can recalibrate and trek forward another clown materializes just sparse inches at your side. Your entire body forcefully jerks back, knocking into Jimin, but the force doesn’t phase him in the slightest as he swiftly brings his arms around your frame to prevent you from falling back.

Next to you, the man’s laughter hasn’t ceased a bit the entire time, and as you quickly dash forward and away from the clowns that you oh-so-wanted to knock a tooth out of, while clinging onto his side, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “Hanging in there?”

“I think I’m gonna murder you before I murder any of these clowns.”

“Noted!” he chimes while playfully bumping his head into yours.

As you two turn another corner, the sight of more clowns banging against vacant windows on either side of you has you wincing, and you could swear you could feel your left eye start to involuntarily twitch. You come to the indubitable realization that amidst dozens of clowns, you are evidently the biggest one here.

The sounds that blaringly elicit from your lips are the nearing equivalent to keyboard smashes with a variety of curse words in between. In short, if you had a swear jar, you’d be practically penniless at this point.

The clowns are quick to take note of your cowardly conduct, using it to their advantage and targeting you specifically—reaching and intruding so eerily close that you’re almost convinced that they’re actually touching you. You cower in their presence, squirming and sinking deeper and deeper into Jimin’s hold as you make your way down the path.

Beads of cold sweat began to assert their own path down your forehead—heart ricocheting against the walls of your chest, straining the cords of your throat because of your never-ending shouts and shrieks of terror upon terror. Your whole body was convulsing and shivering without fault, even when accompanied by the body heat of the man next to you, the harsh lighting of the overhead lights, and the lack of ventilation in this shoddy tent proved to be no match against your bodily functions that were going completely haywire. If you were an Amazon package, you would have a large ‘Caution: Handle With Care’ sign slapped right onto the box.

The pea-sized amount of pride that remains within you is the only thing stopping you from completely losing your shit.

Jimin's laughter—airy and unwavering, tickling the shell of your ear was the only thing keeping you grounded, serving as a constant reminder that at the very least when you might have lost all your pride and composure, you still had him by your side.

Without much forethought, he continues to lay kisses along your temple, clutching you close to his chest and keeping you upright as your knees constantly buckled under the weight of your looming fear, crumbling composure, and the grisly clowns that were most definitely preying on your downfall.

The ten-minute duration—which to you, had felt like a whole lifetime-and-a-half had finally come to a close. Once you were able to discern what you thought was the exit of the tent—the small opening leading to what had looked like signs of civilization, you booked it without hesitation, hastily tugging Jimin with you to the point where he nearly tramples over his own feet and crashes to the floor due to the sheer and sudden force.

You two finally pass through the exit. Feeling as if you had just ran a timed mile in five minutes, your body caves immediately—hunching over, briskly bringing your hands to your knees to support your deteriorating physiological state. The sound of your heavy breathing gets disrupted by Jimin’s laughter. You stand up, straightening yourself out when you realize that other people were starting to make their way towards the exit too, and you two were clearly blocking the way out.

Jimin takes you by the wrist and swiftly pulls you aside as more people start to trickle out of the tent. You two lean against the metal fence, comfortably silent as he lets you catch your breath.

You huff out, taking deep exhales as you speak, "Holy fuck, what even was that?"

"The funniest thing I have ever seen," he shoots back with a smile, slightly breathless as well.

You blink rapidly, body slumping against the fence, still completely cynical and disbelieving in what you had experienced. Biting the inside of your cheek so hard you're pretty sure you left teeth marks, you wipe your sweat with the hem of your sleeve.

"You okay?" he asks softly, closing the gap in between the two of you.

You nod, affirming your composure in hopes that it would solidify it for real. Giving him a smile to ease the nerves you knew he had, you visibly saw his smile widen, and with that, you ruffle his hair, take his hand into your own, and walk a few steps forward before announcing brazenly into the chilly autumn wind,

"Drop zone time."

"Y/N PLEASE—!"

"Don't do this, anything else but this please." He pleads, lips jutting out while childishly tugging on your sleeve.

You groan, "Bub, we had a deal."

He presses his lip together, "I know... but just look at that! How does that even look remotely safe enough for one to ride?" He tries to reason with you, staring up at the attraction that he believes should not even be labeled as an 'attraction' in the first place.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, "If it was that much of a safety hazard, it wouldn't even exist Chim."

"I will never understand why people ride this out of enjoyment and pleasure. This is insane," he says, his eyes trailing to the long line of people behind the two of you.

"It's three seconds, I swear. Three seconds compared to my ten minutes of cussing and wanting to punch a clown in the face is very reasonable in my opinion. You’ll be just fine, I’ll hold your hand the whole time," you add on.

He quietly freezes in place—eyes fixated on the tower, hands leaving the fabric of your sweater. You feel his warm hand come in contact with yours, the back of his hand grazing your knuckles. Lacing your fingers in between his, he meets your eyes, giving you a timid, lopsided grin. A silent affirmation that had said more than words could’ve. I trust you but I’m still scared shitless.

“You guys are next,” the worker announces, opening the gate and gesturing you two to come inside. Jimin’s smile dissipates, face contorting into a look of mortification at the man’s words—eyes widening to the size of what would be considered as utter shock and lips curling into a form of disgust.

Tugging lightly at his hand, he whips his head towards you, waiting to speak until you two have passed the gate, “Y/N, I’m literally gonna piss my pants like I’m not even joking.”

“Jimin!” you say in a hushed yell, “Please don’t, I know your pride is too precious to you for you to annihilate it by pissing on a ride that even kids go on.”

He scoffs, “Okay fine… but we’re getting churros after this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, smiling at his tone, “Why would I argue against churros?”

“Hello, miss? Come this way, please,” another worker greets, leading the two of you to two vacant spots of the ride where you presume were going to be yours.

You nod, making your way towards the two seats, hearing Jimin splutter incoherent words and sounds from behind your shoulder.

He immediately plops into the innermost spot, refusing to be on the outermost seat that only had one accompanying seat on one side, albeit it truly didn’t matter. And of course, you don’t tell him that.

Smiling at his overt signs of apprehension, you slide into the spot next to him, beginning to put on the seatbelt over your lap.

Drumming his fingers on his knees, he already has his seatbelt buckled and his over-the-shoulder restraints locked and secured into place.

“Ugh, can these things go any tighter! I can still move under here,” he tuts, vigorously trying to push the restraints closer to his body, yet his attempts are proven to be in vain.

“Bub, they still want you to be able to breathe,” you remind him with a small giggle, your head popping out of the U-shaped bar to look over at him—his brows knit in concentration, nose scrunched, lips tucked into his mouth.

In a final attempt, you hear the man beside you take a sharp and deep inhale, only to hear a tiny click emit from the restraint shortly afterward.

He releases his bated breath, only to come to the realization that he can’t extend his stomach all the way forward, the bar forcing it to come short. He splutters, bringing his hand to cover his face while he coughs only to realize that his arm can’t fully reach around the bar to meet his face.

You watch this entire scene unfold out in front of you—wishing you could do something to help the poor guy, but you already knew your attempts would be pointless in the end as your arms are physically incapable of extending that far. You sink back into your seat to make sure he doesn’t see the fact that you were trying so hard not to laugh.

“Jimin, deep breaths, in and out,” you instruct him as the worker starts to make their rounds around the ride, double-checking for seatbelts and secured restraints.

“Y/N, that’s the problem, I can’t.”

“Try scooting back into your seat,” the worker suggests to Jimin, giving him an empathetic smile.

“What do you mean–oh, erm, thank you.”

She nods, shaking Jimin’s restraint a little more energetically to reassure the man of his safety.

As she leaves, he says to you, “Y/N, I can’t believe you convinced me to go on this.”

“Me too, honestly. I’m really proud of you Chim.” You admit, reaching out a hand towards him in which he takes.

“Three seconds, right?” He reiterates.

“Give or take, yeah.”

“Y/N—!”

Your seats suddenly clatter, signaling the start of your long ascent. Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens substantially, causing you to groan out in pain.

He quickly takes note of the noise, loosening his grip ever so slightly, “Oh my god, sor- oh fucking hell, there’s no going back now?!”

You chomp down on your bottom lip before another sound could escape your mouth—his grip on your hand tightening the higher you two go, “No, no you’re fine, it’s okay..”

“HOLY SHIT WHY ARE WE ALREADY THIS HIGH UP?!” He yelps, kicking his feet against the air—people’s heads starting to look as small as ants, the rest of the park coming into view as if you were experiencing it from a drone’s point of view.

“Dumbass, don’t look down!”

“It’s too late–what the hell, why can I see the whole damn city from here?!” He sticks his head out of his restraint, looking up and trying to find the top, “wHen the FUCK does this shit stop please, Y/N, I cAn’T do this?!?!”

“Chim. Breathe. Deep, steady breaths, okay?” You say while audibly taking breaths so he can do the same.

“Okay, okay,” he says, voice cracking but following suit.

After you think that he finally manages to get a grip on himself, you decide to try to take his mind off the situation at hand, “Jimin, look at the view.”

His breath softens as he begins to take in his surroundings. He could see everything. To him, it feels as if he had the city in the palm of his hand. The rollercoasters that reside next to the tower were practically reaching eye-level to him, and despite the lack of color due to the theme of the park, he thought it was mesmerizing anyway. He marvels at the fact that he could even see past the park—catching a glimpse of the cars zooming on the main highway, minute specks of light emitting from the windows of skyscrapers, people living in their own little worlds in each one, And of course, the envy of it all, the night sky—the dark depth littered with a multitude of stars in their own little patterns and worlds of their own as well.

The overhead speakers trumpet, ripping Jimin out of his trance-like state, “Welcome to the drop zone brave newcomers. I hope you’ve had an enjoyable trip on the way up here. And I hope that your descent is just as enjoyable as well. We will be dropping in... “

Jimin heaves out, “Now that’s just plain rude at this point.”

“Ten.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “What kind of question is that Y/N?!”

“Nine.”

“Jimin, you’ll be just fine,” You reassure for the umpteenth time.

“I swear if this is longer than three seconds–”

“Eight.”

He frantically kicks the air. “Fucking hell! I can’t believe I’m doing this right now, I miss the ground.”

“Seven.”

“We’ll be back down to earth sooner than you think, I’m telling you.”

“Six.”

“Oh my fucking god, oh my fuck–!”

“Five.”

“Oh fuck, holy shit–!”

“Jimin, I’ll be right beside you–”

“Four.”

“–the whole way.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD?!”

“Thre–!”

Before the countdown can finish, you two plummet, plunging down at great speeds—a feral-sounding squawk leaving Jimin’s lips when it all happens.

He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to see what was going on—letting go of your hand, he opts to hold onto the other handlebar on the restraint instead. His breath is caught in his throat, the ride is moving so fast that he can’t even produce any noise, let alone move his body.

Just like you have been saying this whole night, the ride ends in a blink of an eye. Or more specifically, three seconds, give or take.

Jimin slumps in his seat—fingers still curled so tightly around the handlebars that his knuckles turn pale.

You stick your head out of your restraint, craning your neck to look at him beside you, “Jimin, it’s done, it’s over.”

“Are you sure?” He mumbles.

“Open your eyes.”

His head slowly rises, eyes remaining shut. Cracking one eye slightly open, he loosens his grip on the handlebars before opening his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" You beam, waiting for the restraints to be lifted.

"I wouldn't know, I had my eyes closed the whole time," he shyly admits, lifting the restraint off of him and unbuckling his seatbelt.

You two jump out of your seats, heading towards the gate and bidding the drop tower goodbye, juxtaposing afterthoughts lingering in the air.

"That felt so weird, I don't know if I wasn't able to move or if there wasn't enough time for me to react," he chuckles dryly while twining his hand with yours once again.

You smile, "Probably a little bit of both," you suggest, eyes scanning the park for any signs of a churro stand, "but hey, you survived!"

He smiles at that, teeth out and all, "We both did," he assures earnestly, "and now as an incentive, we are getting churros."

Your eyes light up—the sight of the bright neon sign being the next destination of the night. Jimin notices your sudden reaction, quickly looking in the same direction as you and pinpointing the small churro stand from afar.

To your luck, the line isn't very long—people are most likely preoccupied with the multitude of attractions that are only going to be available for this appropriate time of the year, taking advantage of the opportunity before having to wait for an entire year before getting to experience it all over again. But you and Jimin weren't like most people, and you two strongly believed that churros should be indulged in at any time during any situation. And right now, it was being utilized as a form of consolation, just in the shape of a deep-fried pastry sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.

After obtaining your consolation desserts, you two resume your journey around the park. Too preoccupied indulging in your churro, you’re temporarily able to block out the commotion that was occurring around you, keeping four out of five senses focused on said churro and churro only.

“You feel better?” You ask, taking a brief moment to dust off all the cinnamon and sugar off the corners of your mouth.

“Mmhmph,” he incoherently mumbles, after shoving half a churro into his mouth. He abruptly pauses, cheeks puffed up and eyes wide, realizing he can’t talk and instead he nods with a grin as wide as his mouth would allow him to stretch out.

You giggle at his actions, taking your focus off of him to take another bite.

A few moments later, when most of your churros noticeably nowhere to be seen, you ask, “Where should we go next?”

He cinches his brows together, “We probably shouldn’t go on anything to extreme, considering we just ate. How about the ferris wheel?” He suggests, pointing to the attraction that was standing in front of the two of you.

You nod, “You’re right, these workers already go through enough. And we shouldn’t add cleaning vomit to the list.”

He chuckles, “Agreed. Let’s go, the line is pretty short!” He exclaims jubilantly, flashing you a mega-watt grin while pulling you along with him towards the gated entrance.

Leaning against the gate, you two wait for the round of riders that were currently riding to finish, mindlessly scrolling on your phones to pass the time.

The gate entrance opens, tearing your focus off of your phone and back to reality. The enormous and dazzling neon wheel that stood boldly enveloped your vision in replacement of your dim and dark-mode setted phone screen, making you blink a few times to adjust to its harsh hues.

One of the carts comes to a halt, doors releasing as the group of friends inside it begin to grab their belongings and head out. The worker in charge motions you to step inside after they leave, the two of you following suit. When you two become situated and seated, they press a few buttons on their control panel, the doors promptly swinging close. A few brief seconds after, the cart jolts before moving just enough so the other people behind you could board onto the next cart.

The carts reminded you of the teacup ride at Disneyland—built in a circular shape, seats lined around the border with a small gap made for the entrance door, but of course, it was void of steering wheels in the middle. Now that would just be a recipe for disaster, and a solid segue into Jimin vomiting all over you.

He nudges your leg, “It’s so funny to me.”

You turn to him, “What is?”

“Out of all things to do while being here, and we’re riding the ferris wheel,” he beams, a light chuckle leaving his lips, “I don’t know whether to pity us or not.”

“All my pride has left me already and I’m okay with it,” you tut, lips unwillingly curling upward as you replayed the scenes of what had happened earlier at the drop zone, “I wouldn’t talk too much if I were you Mr. ‘I’m gonna piss my pants.” You tease, poking him in the side.

He scoffs, squirming slightly where you poked him, “I am still proud of myself, I didn’t think I was gonna make it up there.”

You turn away, holding in your laughter, “I didn’t think you were either.”

“Hey! Don’t even get me started on you,” he says, nose scrunching and brows furrowing, “those poor clowns were about to get their noses punched in if it wasn’t for me being there. I think your screams and threats were starting to scare them more than they were scaring me.” He fires back, giggles erupting in his throat and interrupting his words.

“I’m not even gonna argue against that. We are so sad,” you say—laughter flaring up in your chest as well, the two of you keeling over so hard the cart begins to swing back and forth.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Easy there,” Jimin yelps as you two take notice of the movement and immediately cease your actions, hands grabbing the ends of the cart to try to stabilize it.

Just as your cart has moved up enough for you to start seeing an overhead view of the park, he whips his phone out before saying, “Lemme take a picture of you, the view is so nice here.”

As he whips out his phone, you scoot to the other end of the cart as he brings his phone up to his face and focuses it on you. Naturally, you bring your hand up, hand changing to a trademark peace sign as you flashed a smile for the camera. He brings his phone down many lock screen worthy pictures later, happy with the result evident from the grin etched onto his face.

“Your turn,” you say, motioning you two switch spots as you take your phone out of your pocket.

Jimin, infuriatingly photogenic, simply sits while staring off into the distance, jaw on full display as you begin to rapidly snap pictures. Hearing your camera clicks he changes his position—turning towards you as the chilly wind blows through his hair, eyes crinkling and dazzling smile on full display that you can’t help but smile at the familiar yet all too breathtaking sight.

Placing your phone in your lap, you scoot closer to him—leaning your back against his shoulder, you prop your legs up onto the seats. Turning towards you, he snakes his arms around your waist as his chest comes in contact with your back. You let yourself sink deeper into his grasp, conforming into his body as warmth spreads to your fingertips. Your head lulls back, falling into the space right below his collarbones as you stroke the back of his hands gingerly with the pad of your thumbs. He rests his chin on top of your head, the two of you simply admiring the view below.

The ride still hasn’t started—people still boarding the ride as the carts momentarily halt and move from time to time.

Not long after, your cart reaches the very top.

Head peering over the edge, he turns back, “See, why did we have to go on the drop tower when we could’ve went here instead,” he grumbles, the peak of the tower standing nearly just as tall as the highest point of the ferris wheel to the point where you could stare directly ahead of you without tilting your head.

“Well that takes all the fun out of it,” you tease, making him frown, “Hey! You keep forgetting what you made me go through before that. Don’t think I’ve gotten over it that quickly.”

Looking displeased at your answer, he quirks a brow, “You seemed to be fine when we were riding the tower.”

“What can I say, you make a very good distraction.”

“I think I could say the same for you,” he proposes, “I swear I saw some of those clowns turn away and start laughing every time you threatened them. I was like ‘Yes! That’s my feisty girlfriend!” he cheers, pumping his fists into the air. You cower down in embarrassment, grinning to yourself while trying to swat his arm away.

“I feel so burned out already though,” you say, head falling back into his chest, “I think it’s ‘cause we’re here at night.”

“And because you track-starred your way through that entire maze,” he adds.

“That too.”

“I feel it too, we did more walking than anything else to be honest.” He says, which is very much true. The drop tower was all the way on the other side of the park and the churro stand took you guys a whole twenty minutes just to find.

You hum, “Should we head out after this then?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head, “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I feel bad though, it feels like we just got here,” you admit, chuckling into his arm.

He shakes his head, hands reaching over to play with the ends of your hair, “Don’t feel bad, I think we’re still hungover because of midterms. And besides, I’m hungry and I don’t wanna eat a ten dollar hotdog after just eating a stale ten dollar churro.”

“Yeah, we can just eat one dollar ramen, we’re still college students above everything.”

And you truly couldn’t argue with that. “Of course.”

Taking your hands off of his, you prop a hand onto the cart to sit yourself up onto the seats. He releases his hold on you, his arms returning back to his sides as the warmth of your body dissipates to his dismay.

You adjust your sitting position so you could face him—reaching out to take one of his hands into your own. Your eyes bore into his, gazing into the pools of honey that were his irises. The view is slightly obscured as his eyes crinkle.

He smiles, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You don’t even register that he’s speaking to you until he leans in slightly, his features starting to appear bigger as he starts to close the gap between you two. You shake your head once he gets so close in proximity that you could see each crinkle that etches themself on the sides of his eyes each time he grins.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, taking notice of the action as you quickly revert back to his eyes. He smirks

“Thank you for taking me here,” you say as your eyes intently gaze into his once more, “above all the trepidation we’ve put each other through tonight, at least we’re here together.”

He nods, gratitude evident without him having to utter a single word. It’s as if time is frozen, everything around you stagnant and still, eyes boring into each other because nothing could just quite compare to this. Not even the surreal view of the city or the ability to see all the bustle within the amusement park or even the stars that littered the sky.

You press your lips against his. Although you initiated the action, the sensation of his lips against yours, regardless of how natural, sends a flurry of shockwaves down your spine. Your body tingles—as if you’re floating and the cart you were sitting on wasn’t even there to support you.

And he kisses you back. His lips are warm, welcoming, and comforting—like wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket in the comforts of your bed, the indescribable bliss as the fabric consumes your body and runs over your skin.

Kissing him felt even more blissful than that.

The kiss isn’t fervent, but it’s full of longing. It’s as if he’s communicating to you, through the way his lips mesh against yours, that he plans on making up for all the lost time. Time that could’ve been spent doing things like kissing you, loving you wholeheartedly and unashamedly, was spent pining for each other with the label of being ‘best friends’ standing in the way for far too long. He wants to make up for it just as much as you do.

He slides his hand under the crevice of your knee, pulling you closer to him as he continues to kiss you. You bring your hand up to his neck, entangling your fingers into his hair as you lightly scratched at the surface of his scalp.

He kisses you like he’ll never get to again, which isn’t completely false—the fact that you two were so high up in the air to the point where the stars look tangible, basking in each other’s presence and each other’s presence only.

Frustrated at the abnormal layout of the seating, he hooks his arms under your legs—hoisting you up and placing you in his lap so you were straddling him—incognizant of how the cart was starting to dip due to the unequal distribution of weight.

The gesture makes you squeak, and you can start to feel him smile against your lips. Before you could do anything else, the cart totters—rocking a few times before moving, signaling that the ferris wheel is finally beginning its journey.

“Oh fuck—!”

“Oh shit—!”

The two of you immediately detach from each other as you take notice of the unbalance, hurriedly leaping onto opposite sides of the cart while gripping onto the sides for dear life, the cart rocking back and forth at a concerning extent. You sneak glances at each other, your faces painted with the same expression of shock and distress.

Seconds pass and the cart steadies—laughter instantaneously taking over the two of you.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” he says, a little breathless while his body hunched over his seat.

“Remind me the next time we kiss to check if we’re less than a foot above the ground first,” you tease, playfully swatting his knee.

He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles before shaking your intertwined hands up in the air—obnoxiously shouting into the frigid autumn wind, “Yes chief!”

MASTERLIST

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years

Text

a love like war | part two

Pairing: Negan x Reader Pronouns: She/her Warnings: Language Summary: Sequel to The Other Side: It seems like Negan’s efforts to win you back are too hard to fight off. A/N: I had so much fun with this sequel <3 Again all the thanks goes to @jinxeee <3 Tags: @aubageddon91 @phoenixblack89 @chloe-skywalker @srhxpci @browneyes528

Read part one here.

When you arrived back at Alexandria, Daryl wasn’t best pleased when he saw you with Negan. In fact that night he gave you a lecture on how you should have found a way to tell him. You could barely even think for yourself that night, all you could think about was what Negan had said to you but you realised quickly that it was a dangerous territory for you to be in. You had come to the conclusion that you wouldn’t put yourself in a situation like that again, you’d do your very best to stay clear of the ex leader.

Michonne had taken it upon herself to join Daryl in a hunt leaving you with babysitting duties, Judith had gone off to work on her homework and RJ seemed content playing in the street, you watched him dance around the street giggling at the story he had made up in his head from the kitchen window, it was the first time since the hoard that you felt at ease. You turned away for just a second to place down your empty glass and when you returned to the window, RJ was much further down the road crying. It looked like he had fallen over and hurt himself which only panicked you, you took off running out of the house and in his direction.

Before you made it to RJ’s side you noticed the very man you had been avoiding bent down by his side, making the child smile and forget about the scrap on his knee. You could feel all the muscles in your body tense as you slowed your pace, your heart was racing as you made your way to the boy’s side. You noticed Negan rubbing his hand over the graze that now occupied the child’s skin reminding him it was nothing and just a bump. He managed to calm RJ down completely as you bent over to check on him. “What happened buddy?” your voice was soft and calm as you reached your arms out to the boy, instantly he clung onto you in the form of a hug.

“Little fella just had a fall” Negan now spoke, nudging RJ gently before sending him a wink “but you’re alright now, aren’t ya?” RJ seemingly turned shy and nodded at the question.

Your head only seemed to grow foggier as you watched the way Negan interacted with the toddler, your heart seemed to swell at the sight “Thank you” you whispered to the tall man as you both rose to your feet. He shrugged off your appreciation as if his actions didn’t require a thanks. “You know its cheating when you use the kids too get me to forgive you” though you passed it as a joke, you felt it fully, you couldn’t believe a simple act of kindness towards a child would almost make you forget the torture you endured at the hands of the man. Negan simply laughed at your words allowing his tongue to guide his bottom lip between his teeth. You looked down at RJ letting him back down on his feet now that he seemed confident enough to brave walking again. “Thank you, again” your eyes now met with Negan’s again and he sent you a sincere smile. You’re not sure why but you stood on the tips of your toes and gave him a small kiss on his cheek and turned away from him following RJ back down the street. You instantly regretted your actions, a moment of weakness on your behalf only confirmed Negan’s plans to win back your heart were slowly working.

You gave it a lot of thought and now that Daryl had gone to Hilltop to help out some more up there, you decided to give Negan the benefit of the doubt. You told Gabriel you were willing to take your share of shifts on ‘Negan watch’ though you weren’t fully ready to forgive him for what he had done, he had proven his willingness to change and that seemed like enough to build some sort of friendship with him and start your healing process.

The shifts went well, not once did he ever say anything out of place or make you feel uncomfortable. He’d ask you about your day and offer you a joke about his, you got on fairly well for the first two days. You had mentioned to him that Judith was struggling with her math work and he offered to help with your supervision. You’d take her to the cell and let her ask him questions and laugh whenever she responded to him with nothing but pure sass. When she had finally had enough of her work, Judith took off leaving you alone with Negan.

You unlocked his cell door and asked him to hold out his hands so you could shackle him. “Thank you for that “ you giggled, taking his hands in yours and clasping the handcuffs on. You were taken back slightly when your skin touched his but you didn’t let it show.

“She sure has an attitude” he allowed a chuckle of his own pass as he looked down at you, your eyes slowly met with his and it caused instant tension. It confused you how he still had such a hold on your heart despite all the horrible things he put you through. You barely noticed his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. When he slowly lowered his head that when you pulled away, pushing on his chest a little to make him stand further back into his cell.

“What the fuck!” you shouted in his direction, your breathing seemed to become short as you tried to piece together what just happened.

“Im sorry, I thought-“ you cut him off instantly, the anger quickly bubbling to the surface.

“You thought what? You thought that just because you helped a kid with their math homework I’m gonna instantly forget what you did to me?” He hung his head in shame as you scolded him. “You can’t just pull that shit! It’s not fair! Every time I see you, there’s always some new attempt to get me to forgive you but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter how much I love you, it’s never going to change the fact that you broke me. I can’t trust you” tears now streamed down your face like a constant flowing body of water.

“I’ll never stop” Negan shouted back at you, your face starting to crease as he spoke. “I won’t stop until I make it right, until I make it up to you. You’re the only thing that matters now.” His words managed to take away your ability to breathe. Your stomach felt as though there was a large pit that occupied it, shaking your head you turned away from him and ran out of the room, ignoring any stares you seemed to attract as you made your way down the street. You tried your best to mask the emotion that spilled from your eyes but the wet tracks on your face gave you away.

You found yourself sitting in one of the newer buildings, people often gathered there for prayer and though your faith had been tested by the new world, you seemed drawn to it. You sat on one of the many chairs available and admired the woodwork of the beams that supported the room, you thought you were alone until you heard footsteps creeping up behind you. You turned to meet their maker and were met with the priest himself, you gave him a soft smile before turning your attention back to the beams. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you in here” Gabriel’s words were soft as he pulled up a seat next to you, you let a breathy laugh pass as you let your head hang a little “something on your mind?” what wasn’t on your mind, you looked over at the man sending him an obvious look.

“You could say that” you joked back pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’m not much of a believer but I think only a higher power can help me with the situation I find myself in” you sighed to further prove the stress you felt. Gabriel let a small smile creep onto his lips before placing his hand on your shoulder and just like that you let everything out, you explained your situation with Negan and how confused you felt by his recent pass. You’re not sure how Gabriel made you feel safe enough to trust him with your honesty but he did and he did it well.

He allowed the information to settle for a moment before a sigh of his own passed his lips “anyone who is given the chance can change” you weren’t convinced of his words, you knew people could change but you also knew that once someone had crossed a line, there was no going back and you were sure Negan crossed the line long ago. “You and I both know that a second chance can go a long way, maybe Negan deserves one too but only you can decide that ” Gabriel left you to your own thoughts after that, he figured he helped as much as he could. You stayed in your seat for a while thinking over the new advice you had been given, tears seemed to cloud your eyesight as you grew closer to your conclusion. Eventually you allowed yourself to leave the building, even though you weren’t fully convinced of your decision you made your way in the direction of Negan’s cell.

Negan was laid on his bed, staring up at the concrete wall when you made your way back into the room. He instantly pulled himself from the bed and made his way to the bars, he opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off before he had chance “I thought about, about you” at first your words came out as whisper, you seemed shy as you kept yourself close to the door but the way he looked at you in that moment made you sure this was the right decision. “I’m not sure how it will work, I mean your in prison for crying out loud” you bit down on your lip as you allowed your eyes to meet finally “but I can’t deny it anymore, I’ve tried to fight it, to bury it so deep that it can’t resurface but it always does. I don’t know why after the shit you put me through but I do, I love you” you tried to disguise the crack in your voice but at that point it didn’t matter, your feelings were now stripped bare and you felt naked as you stood before him. “I’m willing to at least try put it behind me, give you a second chance but if you do as much as put a toe out of line in anyway, I’ll make sure they keep you locked in this cell until you die” You stood your ground and did your best to stay stern but the wobble of your chin gave away your nerves.

Negan didn’t say a word he just nodded waiting for you to finish your speech but he still didn’t have a word to say. The room fell silent after that, you watched the former leader with tears in your eyes, noting how desperate he looked as he waited by the door of his cell for you. You were slow with putting the key in the lock and once you heard the sound that signalled it had unlocked your eyes met with his again, slowly you pulled back the metal bars until even he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed through the bars and his hands engulfed your face, your heart felt like it was on fire when he touched you, your eyes flickered slightly at the pure euphoria your skin felt against his. It wasn’t long until his lips were entangled with yours, the way he attacked your lips like there was nothing else he wanted more made you let out a soft moan. It was like music to his ears. You allowed your hands to find the back of his neck as he let his hands slowly fall down your body and wrap around you to bring you closer to him. As he slowly pulled away from you, your eyes started to well up again. You pressed your head against his chest your hands clutching onto the fabric of his shirt “please don’t break me again”

#negan twd #twd negan #twd negan fanfiction #twd negan fanfic #negan x you #twd negan x you #negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #negan fanfic

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cicada-bones · 3 years

Text

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 2: Foreboding

Im hoping to get a bunch of updates out before i have to get back to school - So here we go! Second chapter already! This one is a little short, but it was the only place that made sense to end it, so I hope you will forgive me.

word count: 2885

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

There was once a male gifted by Hellas. He was born into nothing, was born into dirt and ash and squalor. He ate when he was hungry, took what he wanted, fought, stole, and whored.

Until a queen of darkness found him.

She raised him up from the slums, and turned him into a weapon of war. He gave up everything to serve her, pledged himself to her always. Even loved her.

She scorned him, but the male endured it. For he would lay down his life for her, had already given her his freedom. And what was his dignity by comparison?

The years passed, and time started to become meaningless. Courts rose and fell, warriors grew into power and others’ names were lost to time. The male built a company of soldiers to rival any throughout the land. They suffered loss, betrayal, and battles too numerous to count. But they stood strong through it all.

Until a princess of fire sailed in from across the sea, and stole his brother away.

Now his queen was lost, was blinded by her own desire for power. And for the first time in his long life, the male was unsure of the way.

A choice lay before him, two paths diverged. And time was running short for the decision to be made.

The male closed his eyes, letting his tense shoulders drop.

Both roads were fraught with darkness and difficulty. One would take him across the sea, and label him a betrayer, an oath-breaker. The other would chain him in place, to a throne whose foundation he was worried had already begun to crack. One would take him from his queen forever, but might save her from herself. The other would allow him to stay by her side, but only to watch as her greed slowly destroyed her.

One breath in, one breath out. Slow and even.

Lorcan Salvaterre opened his eyes to examine the golden ring in his palm, those two paths appearing before him, closer than ever.

And he had no more idea of his decision than he had from the beginning.

His feet shifted on the floor, rasping slightly on the stone. The sound was quiet, but it was just enough to cause his queen, asleep across the room, to stir.

Lorcan’s breath caught in his throat.

The moment stretched, twisting and pulling under the pressure. And he knew that his time had come.

But which? Which? Which?

The bedcovers ruffled, a slow sigh escaping his queen’s pink lips. Her face was clear, relaxed. And she was just as beautiful as the first moment he had beheld her. A dark majesty, like black cliffs of stone overlooking the sea, like the violence of dark water tossing itself at their feet.

Lorcan breathed deep, closing the golden ring in his fist.

And he darted from his queen’s chamber, slipping into a run. The fastest of his life.

···

Rowan lifted a spoonful of stew, then let it drip back into the wooden bowl, its soft trickling echoing between his ears.

He had been sitting in the kitchens for what felt like hours, but by the movements of the sun, it couldn’t have been more than a quarter–, or maybe half an hour. If he was being generous. And he was not in a particularly generous mood.

Rowan was exhausted.

Not, in-need-of-a-few-hours-sleep-and-then-he-would-be-fine exhausted. More fall-asleep-standing-up exhausted. Sleep-for-three-days-straight exhausted. And it was only made worse by the fact that he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping well anytime soon.

Today had been a quarry day, and after his morning run, Rowan had spent hours under the baking Wendlyn sun, slowly coaxing rock from the earth. His magic had helped, as with it, he could make blades of ice to cut into the stone, shaping it like clay. It was far quicker, but it was just as exhausting as doing it the normal way, with arms and back and legs.

It had gotten to the point that Rowan was desperately catching minutes of rest here and there, lying awake for hours begging for sleep to come. But the nightmares just wouldn’t leave him be. And both the source of all the trouble and its only antidote was now over a month away. Even if he left that very moment.

He was too tired to even be properly angry with her.

Rowan raised the stew to his lips, swallowing the mouthful somewhat gingerly. It had gone cold. He just sighed, and swallowed another.

It had now been ten days and over two hours since he had last seen Aelin.

Luca rushed into the kitchen, knocking over a chair and causing Rowan to slosh soup all over the wooden table. The boy just grabbed something from the storage area beneath the sinks, and then rushed right out again. Rowan frowned at him.

It took him quite a bit longer than he would’ve ever been willing to admit, but eventually he realized that Emrys, who was scrubbing the stove clean at the other side of the room, was smothering a fit of laughter at his expense. And failing.

Rowan’s frown deepened as he wiped up the mess. Emrys started laughing even louder.

At least the room was nearly empty.

But honestly, he was past caring.

Rowan was patting at his damp shirt when Emrys walked over to him, bearing a washcloth and a fresh bowl of stew, steaming slightly in the light from the open door.

“Here,” he said, already walking back over to the stove. Rowan held in a sigh as he mopped himself up, then gratefully started spooning the warm stew into his mouth.

Rowan and Emrys were the only two people remaining in the kitchen. Now that the rainy season was over, Emrys’ evening storytelling was getting more and more rare. Demi-Fae now spent their evenings out of doors, taking walks through the woods and eating below the stars.

Though he didn’t miss the wet weather, Rowan couldn’t say that he didn’t miss the evenings spent with everyone sprawled in front of the hearth, listening and laughing and crying as Emrys spun his tales. It reminded him of listening to his mother, curled up next to her in bed. The sound of her voice lulling him to sleep.

Something he desperately needed now.

A clatter sounded from the front of the room, startling Rowan from his trance. It was only Emrys, who had now moved on to the dishes, and had dropped a bowl when moving them to their cabinet to be ready for breakfast in the morning.

Once again, the old male didn’t miss Rowan’s reaction. But he didn’t say anything, instead moving to wipe down the counters and tabletops. Another moment passed while Rowan finished his stew, then stood to wash his bowl and put it away with the others.

But Rowan knew Emrys’ silence wasn’t going to last.

And sure enough, just as Rowan put the bowl in the cupboard, the old male spoke up.

“Luca told me he liked training with you the other day.”

The statement was tentative, probing. Rowan didn’t say anything.

Emrys pursed his lips, even as he continued rifling in the store cupboard for some hard-to-reach item. Another breath, then, “He said that you talked about Bas.”

Still, Rowan kept silent.

Emrys sighed. “In the weeks after the battle, Luca…” he trailed off, eyeing the bags of potatoes and onions he was supposed to be counting. “He retreated into himself. He wouldn’t talk to us, to me or Malakai. I know that we aren’t his parents, that we have no right to him. But Luca doesn’t have anyone else. His mortal parents abandoned him, and he never knew his Fae parentage…” he trailed off again.

Rowan found himself nodding to fill the silence. “You care for him,” he said softly. “Anyone could see that.”

Emrys’ eyes met his for a moment, then turned back to the potatoes. “He has become a part of our family. And to have him hide from us in that way…it was hard.”

Rowan nodded again, his brow furrowing as his thoughts began to twist. Where was Emrys going with this?

The male seemed to rally himself. “So I need to know, what happened to Bas? Was – was he really the one who betrayed us to the soldiers?”

Rowan frowned. “Luca didn’t say?”

Emrys scowled. “You weren’t here for those weeks after the battle, you didn’t see. At first, the whole fortress was in chaos, so wrapped up in healing and recovery and relief. And you – you had other things you were paying more attention to.”

Rowan’s face twisted in acknowledgement. He wasn’t sure he’d spent more than five minutes away from Aelin that week.

Emrys continued. “But then, once everything began to calm, Luca went silent. He wouldn’t eat, wasn’t sleeping. Eventually he just came back, like nothing had happened. But it was too delicate. We were afraid to ask him, to push it.”

Rowan nodded. Emrys looked at him expectantly. “What happened to him?”

Rowan steadied himself, then began to explain. By the time he was done, Emrys’ eyes were lined with silver.

“So he killed him?” the male’s voice was soft, heartbroken.

Rowan nodded, and Emrys turned back to the onions and potatoes, cutting off the growths that had sprouted, and tossing away those that looked close to rot. Distracting himself.

“To think, a few months ago I never would’ve thought that I would see you so calm.” Emrys said, almost sardonically. “The state that girl was in this spring – and you two fighting like alley cats. Always at each other’s throats.”

He stood, hauling the discarded vegetables to the compost heap, and moved on to the case of fresher vegetables that had been carted in a few days ago from a nearby farm. “And yet by the end, I thought you two inseparable.”

Rowan averted his gaze just as Emrys glanced up, his eyes sharp. Rowan knew that there was a question there, one that he had no intention of answering.

Emrys voiced it anyways. “And when do you think we will be seeing her again?”

Rowan gritted his teeth. Emrys seemed to sense an uphill battle.

“I – I need to know that she is alright. That she’s going to be alright.”

“No one can know that.”

Emrys frowned. “What will she be facing in Adarlan? Does she seek to confront the king – ”

Rowan cut him off. “Elentiya, has not shared her plans with me. Nor would she have a reason to. I serve another. She is on her own.”

Emrys’ face tightened, but he took it with grace. They were silent for another long moment, or at least until Emrys began tossing sweet peas and lettuce and leeks into a pile, murmuring about old greens and dishonest farmers.

But before Rowan could escape back to his rooms, to see if perhaps he could finally get some rest, Emrys stopped him once again. “In that case, how long do you think you will be with us, Prince?”

Rowan sighed, stalling in the doorway. He’d been avoiding this question too. “I’m not sure.”

Emrys raised his eyebrows. “Won’t your queen be summoning you soon? Now that your training with the girl is done?”

Rowan gritted his teeth. He couldn’t say anything to the old male, no matter how trustworthy he might seem. “Our Queen has ordered me to stay and assist with the repairs around the fortress, and I will stay until she orders me otherwise.”

“And you have no idea when that will be?”

“None.”

“So…” Emrys started, “While you are here…would you consider training Luca?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to scowl. He should have known that this was where Emrys was heading. And for some reason, the offer set a wave of melancholy though him. Strong enough to take him by surprise.

“I know that the boy is not up to your standard, but when he came back from his run with you yesterday – he was different. Lighter.” When Rowan didn’t say anything, Emrys continued. “You helped him.”

Rowan shook his head, “I didn’t do anything that anybody couldn’t have.”

“Maybe so, but – ” Emrys dusted off his pant legs, making to stand. "You’ve made yourself one of the finest instructors I’ve ever seen come through here. You made that girl into what she is. And Luca was always talking about how much he wanted to go to Doranelle, to escape, and become a great warrior of the land.”

Emrys’ eyes twinkled. Rowan was still shaking his head.

“Just – please consider it. For Luca’s sake.” Emrys threw the remaining vegetable scraps onto the compost heap. “We only want him to be happy.”

“I know, but – ”

“But what, Prince?” Emrys’ eyes seemed to bore into him. “What is keeping you? If you must stay here, might you not be useful, as more than just a workhorse in the quarry?”

Rowan’s breath was tight in this chest. He wanted to say that Luca deserved someone better than him. To say that he would only disappoint, that he could never give the boy what he really wanted. Particularly since he so obviously looked up to Rowan.

But the real reason he was so reticent was because it was exactly what he wanted. In a different time, and in a different place. To settle, and build a home. To rebuild and teach and heal, from a lifetime of hurting.

It was so close.

But there was a massive, impassable cavern between here and there. Because Aelin was not with him. And the world around this fortress was far from peaceful.

War not only threatened, but snapped at their heels. Waiting to strike. Rowan could feel in it his bones. There were far too many storms to weather, and enemies to defeat, before that future could possibly be his.

So Rowan only said, “I will think on it, Emrys. And I will agree to spend time with him in the mornings. But just remember, I have no idea when I might be called away. It could be tomorrow or months from now. I can’t make any promises.”

Emrys nodded. “I didn’t really expect you to, Prince.” And he turned back to the storage cupboards, sealing things up for the night.

Rowan turned to leave, but then paused. “And Emrys – you could see about trying to talk to the boy again. Im not sure – but I think he might this time.”

Emrys gave him a small, but warm, smile. “Thank you, Prince.” And Rowan walked out.

···

Rowan jerked from sleep, his body shuddering uncontrollably. This time, the dream had been different. Had been worse.

Instead of him torturing Aelin, and listening to Lyria’s screaming, he had to watch as Aelin gave up. As she let the grief and pain overwhelm her, and she retreated into that shell of a person she had been when they first met.

Maeve threatened to have Cairn whip him, a punishment he had borne numerous times. Pain that, under the circumstances, he would take gladly. That he would take and be grateful.

But Aelin could not take it.

When Maeve threatened to whip Rowan, Aelin gave in. And she handed over the Wyrdkeys.

And Rowan could only watch as the dark queen laughed and laughed and laughed. And destroyed everything in the world that he loved.

It was knowledge that Rowan kept locked up so tight it could only come out in his dreams. The knowledge that Aelin would hand over the Wyrdkeys for him. It was their greatest weakness, their bond. But Rowan couldn’t see what he could do about it.

They were both weaker, and stronger, together. It was a problem he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to solve.

Rowan breathed, calming his wracked body, then stood up and began pulling on fresh clothes and strapping on his many blades. He shifted, then tore out the window and into the waiting sky.

It had been a few days since his conversation with Emrys, each of them longer than the last. It was like he was walking upstream, fighting against the rushing current. Time flowed around him like molasses, sticky and slow and uncomfortable as all hell. But pass it did.

It had now been nearly two weeks since he had last seen Aelin. It felt like a year.

Each of the past three mornings, Rowan had trained with Luca. Guiding him through the bare bones of his morning routine. Even though it had only been a few days, Rowan could already spot marked improvement in the boy’s endurance and speed. In quiet moments, when laboring around the fortress, Rowan even caught himself planning lessons for the boy. Figuring out what would suit him best.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the sadness that filled him whenever he corrected the boy’s stance, or reminded him to keep his core muscles tense. Nor could he escape the increasing feeling of foreboding whenever he thought about the future.

This tense peace was not going to last much longer, he was sure of it.

And as he shifted his wings to turn back towards Mistward, Rowan’s conviction was all but confirmed.

For wafting towards him on the western wind, was the unmistakable scent of Lorcan Salvaterre.

···

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meltwonu · 4 years

Text

s n a k e | e y e s [chapter 4]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; 🥰💕 HELLO Y’ALL! Strap in for the longest chapter yet fdjhgkkhsf also just,,, i know hybrid aus are different and in the real life only female mammals go into heat but as u kno this is fiction and a hybrid au so for the sake of that, heat cycles r not gonna follow irl rules if u kno what im sayin!!! Also fingering and a little bit of dirty talk, and jihoon being a cheeky lil shit🥴🤤 again thank u all for taking interest in snake eyes!! 💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x - x - x

You try to avoid Jihoon for a couple days, going to the office building where you sometimes worked to try and buy yourself some time away from the snake hybrid. You can’t tell if he notices your eagerness to be away from home but you apologize to him in your head, leaving cash on the table for food when you leave in the morning for the third day in a row.

And although Jihoon may not mind your absence that much, your co-workers take notice of how often you’d been coming to the office lately.

“Is everything okay at home?”

You spin your chair around to face the cubicle next to yours, meeting the curious eyes of Seungkwan, a junior writer that had worked with you a few times. You worked as a journalist at a magazine company; sometimes taking the part of an editor when nobody was available. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from home a lot of the time which you preferred, up until a few days ago anyway.

“Huh? Oh yeah, things are okay. Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing just… You almost never come in, like, 3 days in a row? Minghao was starting to get worried too, to be honest.” Minghao was the editor in chief at your magazine company and was actually a good friend of yours. You valued his opinion more than anyone as he was insanely level headed and always lead you in the right direction when you needed a helping hand. He also had a hybrid at home, which you had forgotten about until now.

“Oh… I mean, my mattress has been kinda… y’know, getting old so…”

“What does that have to do with you coming in 3 days in a row? Really, are you okay? You’re not making much sense...”

“I--I think I need to talk to Minghao.”

Knocking on Minghao’s office door, you try to balance the two cups of coffee in your opposite hand, making sure they don’t spill as you grasp the door knob.

“Come in!”

Pushing the door open, you shoot Minghao a lopsided smile as you hold up the coffees, kicking the door shut behind you.

“Wow, can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… 3 days in a row? Something’s… off.” You sigh, setting the cups of coffee down on Minghao’s desk before sitting down in one of the seats across from him. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Well.. the last time you came in this often was when you broke up with your ex… What was his name? Soonyoung?” The name strikes a chord inside you, almost dropping the cup in your hand when you bring it to your lips to take a sip. It’s not that the relationship with Soonyoung had gone sour necessarily, in all honesty it was better than the two of you had broken up because both of you were too focused on your jobs to be in a relationship at the time. However, it still had been somewhat hard to get over; you were used to having Soonyoung around in your life and apartment and having Jihoon around was surely filling in that space lately.

“Uh, yeah, that’s him. I mean, I just… I have some questions if it’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course. We’re friends before co-workers. What’s up?”

“You… have a hybrid too, right?”

“I do… wait, you said ‘too’. Did you get a hybrid? Is that why you’ve been so out of whack?”

“Well, I did... His name is Jihoon and he’s a snake hybrid.”

Minghao can see you fidgeting from across the table, his eyes focused on the way you can’t even make eye contact with him. “He’s not… hurting you, is he?”

“What! No! Never, he’s really kind and…” You trail off, a blush creeping onto your face the longer you simmer in your own thoughts.

“Let me guess, you like him like him, don’t you.”

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

When you get home from the office, the sun’s already been down for a couple hours.

You’d taken the longer way back, thinking about everything you and Minghao had talked about and making some decisions for yourself before making it home. You even stopped at the cafe, grabbing a small dinner and checking to see if the cute barista Jun was around. Sadly, he was not.

“Jihoon, are you here?”

“In the bedroom!” Trudging over, you see Jihoon exiting from the attached bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. “You got back just in time. I… um, ran you a bath! It’s still warm so…” He trails off, sitting quietly on the bed as he watches your eyes flit from the bathroom to him.

“How’d you know I’d get back around this time? It’s very sweet of you Jihoon but also… why?” The snake hybrid fidgets, hands curling around the hem of his sleeves. “Um… I dunno, you seemed kinda tense lately. And you always do nice stuff for me so I wanted to do something nice for you. And you always come back around now, kinda. Guess I was just taking a chance?”

Any coherent thoughts leave your brain at how cute Jihoon is, a serene sigh leaving your lips as you step closer to him sitting on the bed. You run your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch, wrapping his hands around your waist as he pulls you in closer.

“Hmm…”

“Something the matter?”

“You… don’t smell like you lately.” You break into a bit of a cold sweat, fingers pausing against his scalp. “O-oh.. I thought you said your sense of smell was better with your tongue?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean my nose doesn’t work. And you smell like… other people. It’s weird. I’m not used to that.”

You blush again, pulling away from Jihoon as his hands fall from your waist.

“I should take that bath you ran for me while it’s still warm then, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

When you exit from the bathroom, Jihoon’s already under the covers waiting for you.

“Already going to bed?” He nods, a yawn on his lips as he tugs the covers higher up onto his body. “Did you eat already?” Jihoon nods again, patting your side of the bed.

You slide into bed next to him, eyes drawing random shapes onto the ceiling as you lay there wide awake.

“Hey Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?” The snake hybrid turns to face you, turning onto his side as you do the same. “Sure, shoot.” You feel nervous; thankful that it’s dark so he can’t see the way your skin flushes red. “I… sorry if this is stupid of me to ask but you… don’t go into heat, do you?”

Jihoon’s quiet for a moment, a cold hand wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you closer to him. “I can feel you getting warmer cause you’re probably embarrassed. It’s okay to ask. But can I ask why you’re asking?” Clearing your throat, your eyes adjust to the darkness, staring Jihoon straight in the eyes.

“Oh, I was talking to my f-friend earlier who has a bunny hybrid and… he said that his bunny hybrid goes into heat and I was just wondering? He makes his bunny hybrid take suppressants for his heat and I just… I guess I could’ve looked it up but I figured it’d just be better to ask you since we never really talked about it and it’s been a couple weeks since you’ve started living with me.” Jihoon processes your words, puffing his cheeks up in the darkness as he thinks.

“Technically no. I mean, like I’ve said before I don’t really have many snake-like features anyway so even if we did, I probably wouldn’t. But no… if there’s anything, I’ll probably be, um, a little sensitive to you--your, uh… cycle. Cause… smells and stuff.” This time it’s Jihoon’s turn to blush as he mentally kicks himself for his questionable reply.

“O-oh. I see… I mean, okay. That’s good? I mean, oh my god, about you not having to take suppressants! Not about… the other thing.” You can’t help but think that it’s been weeks since Jihoon started living with you which meant you’d already gone through a cycle and Jihoon hadn’t said a word about it.

“Yeah, I mean, I probably would’ve told you otherwise if it was a problem, I guess. But anyway, do you have any other pillow talk questions?”

“Um…”

“For the record, my dick is normal.”

“Jihoon!!” You can feel yourself start to sweat under the covers, mind conjuring up all sorts of inappropriate scenarios until Jihoon laughs out loud, his cold hand sliding under your neck as he wraps his other hand around your waist, effectively drawing you into him as he holds you tight against his chest.

Eventually all you hear is his steady breath, the quietness letting you know that he’s fallen asleep.

A few days pass since then, and you’re thankful that things go back to what you consider normal as you set up your work space in the living room. You’d texted Minghao a few times earlier, letting him know that things were getting better at home and that maybe he and Chan could come over for lunch sometime the next week. He agrees, telling you he’ll text you his free dates when he has time.

Jihoon was still asleep even though it was already closing in on 1PM in the afternoon. But you had chosen to not wake him up, letting the male sleep in as long as he wanted while you worked on a new draft for an article.

But it’s when you get up to make another cup of coffee after 30 minutes of working that you’re hit with a wave of arousal out of nowhere; body heating up in an instance as you feel wetness pooling between your thighs. Instead of making another cup of coffee, you immediately pick up your phone, swiping until you find your period tracker to check the dates. Fuck, you think, this would fucking happen to me after I fuckin’ asked Jihoon all those stupid questions!

The panic hits you like a ton of bricks when you hear the bedroom door opening. You wonder if there’s time to run out of the door and hide for god knows how long before Jihoon even sees you. But in the time it takes you to figure something out, Jihoon steps into the living room, hair still messy from sleep as he stretches. You watch his movements, hyper aware of the fact he can probably smell you to some degree from where he stands. And it was fine when you didn’t know he was sensitive to your cycle but now you did know which made things a little more complicated.

“Did you already make lunch? I’m starving.” Your throat feels dry, but you try to compose yourself to the best of your ability. You almost wish he hadn’t said anything about being sensitive to your cycle in the first place because the hyperawareness was apparently already eating you alive.

“Oh, um, I can make some now actually! I was just about to! I’ll let you know when it’s ready!”

You all but power walk towards the kitchen, not waiting for his reply as you focus on making something to eat; hoping the smells from the kitchen bury the smell of you ovulating to his sensitive nose.

Jihoon is normal for the rest of the day, albeit you’re on edge. Regretfully, your conversations throughout the day are clipped, mentally apologizing to Jihoon again for your weird behaviour even if he seemed to be taking everything well. Your panties had been annoyingly wet all day, even when you’d gone to change them and it was almost time for bed again which had you panicking yet again.

You take your time to get ready for bed, slightly avoiding Jihoon until you realize there’s no getting out of it. There was a second where you debated asking him to sleep in his old room but it’d been so long since he’d slept there that you felt bad for asking.

When Jihoon calls your name, you exit the bathroom, turning off all the lights before slipping into bed next to him. You feel like a plank of wood next to him, awkwardly stiff as he tries to get you to face him.

“Hey…”

“Yes, Jihoon?”

“I don’t want you to feel awkward even though you’ve kinda been all day… It’s okay, y’know.” You turn away from him, facing the window in your bedroom. You can see the moonlight filtering in through the curtains and it distracts you for a second but you think about how you could cry at how genuinely sweet Jihoon was, even when you were being aloof all day. “Sorry it’s just… You’ve been here for weeks which means you already had… had to deal with me going through it once and you didn’t even say anything? I should’ve asked you sooner cause now I don’t know if you were okay and now that I know you know and you’re sleeping next to me still and I--”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay!”

Jihoon presses into you from behind, the coolness of his body permeating his sleep clothes and cooling down your heated body even just a little bit. “I was okay last time too. Like I said, if there were any problems I would’ve told you right?”

“Yeah, but--”

“No, no buts! It’s fine, really. If I’m being honest… it was kind of nice. You got extra warm during that time. Sorry if that’s kind of weird. Guess you can say I’m an opportunist.” There’s a slight chuckle to his voice as he wraps an arm around your waist. It’s silent for a beat as you slightly relax in his hold.

“Jihoon can I ask you another question?”

“Shoot.”

“Did you… um, were you like this with any of your past owners?” He sighs, nuzzling into your neck as he stares out window with you. “No. Never. Honestly, I’m a little shocked at myself too. But I guess it’s also because I spent most of the time alone when I was being adopted into other homes. You’re the first person who’s adopted me that’s around my age and… genuinely nice. I don’t feel like a show animal here.” The two of you fall into the first comfortable silence all day; Jihoon’s fingertips playing with the material of your sleep shirt.

“Can I try something?” You hum at his question, muttering a small ‘okay’ under your breath.

Jihoon starts slow, cold fingertips lifting your shirt inch by inch underneath the covers until your sleep shorts are exposed to his wandering hand. You can already feel your breath getting caught in your throat as his cold digits skim the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?”

“H-huh?”

“I need to know if this is okay, before I continue. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because of what I said earlier.” You gulp hearing his words; technically, you’d both benefit from this.

“I… yes, I’m okay with this Jihoon. Please… continue.”

The snake hybrid is silent afterwards, his lips pressed against your clothed shoulder as his hand dips into your sleep shorts. His gentle touch has you moaning softly, eyes fluttering shut as you let him explore.

“You’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?”

“Uh… Uh-huh…”

“It’s cute you were trying to hide it like I didn’t already know.” His words are muffled against your shoulder, lips curling up into a cheeky smile that you can’t see. “I gotta be honest, I kind of regretted telling you at first, y’know? You were more open when you didn’t know. I was sad seeing you all clammed up and trying to hide from me earlier.” Jihoon’s fingertips press into the wet spot on your panties, garbled noises muffled by the pillowcase as you press your face into it slightly.

“I--Isn’t this w-weird?”

“Hmm? What’s weird about it?” Your body's on fire under the bed sheets and Jihoon’s touch and he’d barely even done anything to you yet. “I mean, y-you said you’ve never done this but---mmh, you seem so okay with it, J-Jihoon.”

His fingers play with the hem of your panties for a second before they slide against your skin, dipping deeper and deeper until they meet your wet folds. You moan, already rocking against his hand as you search for more contact. “I’m not completely inexperienced. And let’s be honest, hasn’t there been some tension between us anyway?” You almost grimace, knowing damn well you were suffering from your inappropriate dreams and your long ‘baths’ you would take to relieve yourself hoping he didn’t notice. But you also are surprised to hear that he, too, was feeling something towards you.

“Oh, uh… that’s...”

“Mm, I��m really sorry but your long ‘baths’ weren’t really fooling anyone you know.”

The embarrassment from his comment dies immediately when his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit before rolling the nub between his fingertips. You moan Jihoon’s name, begging him to touch you more.

He indulges you, coating his middle finger in your wetness before easing it into your pussy. You immediately clench around the digit once he’s knuckle deep, whining when it’s not enough. Jihoon laughs slightly, pumping the digit in and out as he thumbs your clit.

“You’re so eager considering you were hesitant about this. Wanna talk about it?”

“Ngh, can--can we do that later? I’m so s-sensitive right now, Jihoon, I already feel like cumming… Can you… can you talk to me instead?”

“Aren’t I already doing that?” His cheeky reply has you whining again but he eases another finger into your pussy, scissoring the digits inside of you. “F-fuck, you know… what I mean. Please!”

“Is that what you like? Dirty talk?” He nuzzles into your neck, kissing the exposed skin before his lips travel up; kissing the shell of your ear. You hadn’t noticed at first but his body temperature is akin to yours now, the heat making you sweat a little as he fingers you under the sheets. “You know, sometimes when you sleep you make these cute little noises… They sound like pretty moans sometimes and it makes me wonder what you’re dreaming of when you’re wrapped up in my arms.” The wetness between your thighs is obscenely loud when Jihoon thrusts his fingers harder and faster into your pussy, your moans and whimpers mixing in.

“You smelled so good last time too. Maybe it’s just instinct but I really wanted to taste you. Maybe I could taste how sweet you really were if I had said something sooner? I’d get you to cum on my tongue over and over again and then lick up all that sweetness ‘til you’re begging me to stop.” His dirty words are whispered softly into your ear, small kisses in between as he tastes your warm skin.

For once, you really hoped this wasn’t a dream.

“Mmh, Jihoon, I’m--I’m gonna cum…!”

The snake hybrid doesn’t reply, instead rubbing your clit harder as he continues to thrust his fingers into you. And although you weren’t reciprocating anything, Jihoon felt good too, the warmth from your body making him feel comfortable and at ease.

When you finally cum around his fingers, you whimper his name, toes curling as your legs clamp around the hand between them. You can feel your breathing stop for a second as your orgasm crests and Jihoon can feel your walls throbbing around his fingers, a small groan against your ear as he slows his movements until your orgasm starts to ebb away. You don’t really know how much time has passed but the stickiness between your thighs starts to feel uncomfortable as you shift slightly; Jihoon’s fingers still inside of your pussy.

“Ji--Jihoon…”

“Hm? Oh, right.”

He eases his fingers out of you, a whimper escaping your lips at the sensitivity.

Jihoon brings his fingers up to his face over your shoulder, your wetness coated all over the digits as he brings them to his lips. You turn your head slightly, watching him through sleepy eyes as he laps at them, cleaning each finger meticulously as he moans. You almost hate the way you already crave his touch again just from the sight.

When he deems them clean enough, he smiles, satisfied. There’s a yawn on his lips afterward, his arm easing your shirt back down as he wraps an arm around your waist again. You lay there for a few minutes, feeling the urge to sleep pulling you in. But you try to get up to get cleaned off, finding yourself already locked into Jihoon’s hold as the male has seemingly already fallen asleep within the few minutes since.

You sigh, easing into his hold as you toss the idea of even trying to get cleaned up out the window. You lay there thinking about all the things you and Jihoon would need to talk about in the morning; thousands of different scenarios flitting through your mind of how it could go. You momentarily think of all the questions you want to ask Jihoon as well. But sleep eventually finds you, eyes drooping shut as you finally welcome it.

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios

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thewalkingdead-fan101 · 3 years

Text

In this hell Daryl Dixon X Reader part 13/??

Hey guys, welcome to part 13! I hope that it measures up to the previous chapters, I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

Warnings- Blood, Gore, General walking dead depictions, slow burn, swearing, physical harm, insinuated abuse, Nightmares, Angst.

The second Glenn mentioned Randall’s group the room had been tense.

I could feel the rage emitting from Daryl as he seethed silently.

Shane stood angrily looking out of the window, his back moving with each harsh breath he took.

Rick sat on the end of the bed, looking up to where Glenn stood by the door, looking at the ground.

“It’s not Glenn’s fault.” I spoke softly, wincing as Hershel continued inspecting my leg.

“How the hell ain’t it?” Daryl argued, stepping forward. “He took you with him!” He continued, throwing his hand in the air. “He didn’t know I was in the car!” I argued.

“What?”

“I didn’t want him to go alone, I had a feeling that something wasn’t right and I thought it’d be better if he had back up!” “You did what?” Shane snapped his head around, striding to the bed, causing Rick to stand between us both.

“You snuck off?!” Shane called.

“Shane, you need to calm down.” Rick spoke, pushing him back softly.

“Rick. Get him out of here.” Hershel spoke.

“Get me out of here?” Shane scoffed. “She’s my sister man.” He shook his head, crossing his arms. “Shane. Leave.” Rick spoke, defending hershel.

My brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, angrily moving to the door, ripping it open and slamming it shut.

I flinched as the wooden door harshly collided with the frame.

“I can’t believe you were stupid enough to go.” Daryl muttered. “Daryl-“ “Nah, I’m done talking.” He shook his head, opening the door and leaving the room.

I sighed as the door closed, looking over to Rick who was looking at Glenn.

“We need to talk about what happened out there. I need to hear it from you.” Rick nodded to Glenn.

Rick looked over to me and smiled softly.

“I’ll come talk to you later, just rest up, let Hershel take care of you.”

I nodded my head, watching as the two men walked out.

Patricia continued to gently wipe the spot from my face, neck and arms.

“Let’s get you in the shower honey.” Patricia smiled softly, helping me stand.

She led me to the bathroom, turning on the faucet, making the temperature mildly warm.

“I’ll bring up a change of clothes for you, then we will have Hershel fix you up.” She spoke gently, as she shut the door behind her. I scrubbed the soot and the dirt from my body, making quick work of my hair.

The water ran dark red as i washed the mans blood from it, flakes of ash melting into the water.

I shut off the faucet, stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel.

A soft knock echoed through the room.

“Come in.” I spoke, watching as the door slightly opened.

Patricia smiled gently as she handed me some clothes, a pair of grey cotton shorts along with some underwear and a navy blue shirt. “They’re from Maggie.” She looked down.

“Thank you.” I smiled softly as she left.

Pulling on the clothes I walked out of the bathroom, towel in my hand.

“Let me throw this on the line.” Patricia quickly took the towel and left the room.

Hershel looked up and cleared his throat, motioning for me to sit down.

“You have second degree burns on your leg.” He paused, watching intently as I glanced down at my leg.

I didn’t realise the extent of the burn.

The skin was brightly red, blisters scattered around the slightly charred areas.

I watched as Hershel applied topical antibiotic ointment.

“Don’t touch it unless you are applying more of this to it.” He raised the tube. “When you goto bed make sure you bandage it, try to wear loose pants, shorts if possible.” “And the blist-“ “Don’t pop them.” He cut me off.

He looked up to my arm, moving to look behind the gauze.

“What happened to your arm?” “We were shot at. It’s just a flesh wound.” I nodded softly. “Did Glenn patch you up?” “Yeah, when we got back to the car.” “He did a decent job.” He chuckled softly as he took a damp cloth, wiping over my arm.

I hissed as the fabric caught on the tender skin.

Hershel took away the cloth and grabbed another gauze, taping it to my arm.

“I think it’s for the best that you stay on the property from now on.” Hershel spoke, packing up the medical supplies he had out, packing up and leaving.

I sighed and stepped out of the room after Hershel, my eyes instantly meeting Maggie’s.

She put her head down, running up the stairs, avoiding me, which felt more painful than the flesh wound I was sporting.

I moved from the house and made my way to my tent, hoping to run into Daryl.

Day Three

The night was long, Daryl hadn’t come to our tent.

I was plagued by nightmares.

The moment I would close my eyes, visions from the day before would haunt me as I chased sleep.

Pictures of a dirty grin, the feeling of his tongue against the skin of my cheek burned into my brain would surface.

My brain producing a mortifying string of events that could’ve occurred if it weren’t for Glenn.

Since the fourth nightmare, I’d been huddled in the corner of the bed, knees cradled to my chest as I blankly stare at the blanket covering my feet in front of me.

The tent began to softly glow, warmth spreading through the fabric as the sun rose. Birds in the distance chirping as though it were a Disney movie.

My hand moved to my eyes, rubbing them softly before resuming to rest atop my knees, holding my chin.

I don’t know how long I have been positioned in the bed, or how long it has been since the sun rose, but judging by the hushed whispers coming towards the tent it didn’t take me long to realise that it’d been long enough for me to miss breakfast.

“Dale, im sure she is fine.” Andrea stated, her shadow moving closer to the tent.

“If im wrong, great. We will leave her be.” Dale responded. “Just go in and check.” “Why don’t you?” The asked. “Right.”

The door opened as Andrea stepped in.

I glanced over to the blonde, moving my eyes back to their position on the blanket.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Andrea asked quietly, kneeling down, gently placing a hand on my knee.

I looked over to Andrea, who intently stared at me, waiting for me to respond.

“(Y/n)?” She asked again.

“Im okay.” I whispered.

“You didn’t come to breakfast.” She stated, lightly shaking my knee.

“I didn’t realise the time. Sorry.” I whispered. “Lets get you up.” She smiled.

Andrea helped me stand. “I just need to take this off.” I motioned to my leg.

She nodded, letting me take the bandage off of my leg, slipping on my shoes, following her from my tent.

As soon as I made it out of my tent, I looked over to Dale who looked shocked.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Yeah, im fine, just tired.” “I can see that.” He stated, looking at me worriedly.

“Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.” Andrea took my wrist in her hand, leading me toward the camp.

As we made it to the group, everyone stopped what they were doing, looking over to see us walk towards them.

Daryl was sitting with his back facing me, Rick and Lori, by each others side as Carl sat at Loris feet, staring at my leg.

Shane made his way over to us, shoving his arm in front of my face, handing me a small bowl of scrambled eggs.

“Sit. Eat.” He nodded to the camping chair he had been using.

I nodded silently and picked at the eggs, feeling eyes burning into me, looking up to see Shane, Rick and Lori watching me.

They all looked back to each other and nodded, Rick standing and slowly walking over as if I were an animal.

I continued to eat the eggs as I waited for Rick.

“(Y/n), can we talk for a minute?”

“Uh, yeah.” I nodded, standing and following him away from the group. “We’ve been talking.” “Who is we?” I asked crossing my arms, looking down at my shoes. “We have as a group.” “Yes?” I asked, playing with a rock that was under my shoe. “We- we’ve come up with the decision to have someone stay with you for a little bit.”

I stopped playing with the rock, taking a moment before looking up to see Rick.

“What do you mean ‘have someone stay with me’?” I asked, as he shifted uncomfortably.

He looked around for a moment, bringing his arm up to scratch the back of his neck.

“We thought that for the time being, after yesterday that we would-“ “Give me a damn babysitter?” I snapped. “No-“ “I see, your wife takes a car out on a rescue mission to find you, crashes it and is let off the hook!” “(Y/n)-“ “But when I sneak into a car to go on a run with someone else to watch their back, another group was there and im in need of a babysitter?” I scoffed.

“This shit is a double standard.” I exclaimed, gesturing with my hands towards where Lori was sitting, watching the conversation.

More eyes had began watching Rick and I at this point.

“Its not like that at all-“ “This is fucking ridiculous.” I shook my head.

Rick gently reached out to place a hand on my arm.

When his skin contacted with my own I pulled back. “Dont fucking touch me.” I turned away, moving to leave.

I stopped momentarily, turning to face him again.

“Im going to my tent, you know, just so you can tell my babysitter where to find me.” I waved my hand in the air, making my way to the tent.

By the time I reached my tent, my anger had turned into annoyance, and I just wanted to throw things at this point.

I sat on one of the fallen stones, putting my head in my hands, trying to calm down my breathing.

I heard footsteps behind me, and I quickly stood, turning to see Dale.

My forced smile dropped, one reason being that it wasn’t Daryl, the other reason being that Dale was appointed my babysitter, knowing that I couldn’t take anything out on him.

“You don’t need to jump for joy, but I didn’t think my company was that bad.” Dale softly joked, testing the water.

“I’m sorry Dale, I’m sorry that you have to do this.” “Do what?” He turned his head to the side.

“Babysit me.” “I don’t know what Rick told you, but he did tell me that I was to make sure you were safe.” “You don’t need to make me feel better Dale.” “That isn’t what im trying to do.” He paused.

I looked to the ground.

“Lets go for a walk?” He asked.

“Am I allowed to?” I looked up. “If im your, what did you call it?” “Babysitter.” “Right, if im your babysitter, I’m sure, we can go for a walk.” He joked.

I laughed softly with the older man as he nodded his head for me to follow him.

Dale and I had walked aimlessly around the farm for a few hours in silence.

“Why did you do it?” Dale broke the silence.

“Why’d I do what?” “Sneak off.” “Oh, I-uh, I knew that Glenn didn’t want anyone to go with him.” I began, looking at Dale.

“And I knew that if I’d have asked anyone else, they would’ve told me no.” “Why do you think that is?”

“Because they all think I can’t handle myself out there.” Dale raised his brow as I said it. “And I can, I know I can hold my own.” “Its not that we don’t think you can handle your own.” He sighed, stopping shaking his head slightly, hands raised as his bucket hat slightly falling a little more over his forehead.

“There is another group out there, we know what you’re capable of, it’s them that we don’t know of.” “We didn’t know that they were going to be there.” “I know that, we all do.” He tried to reason.

“It was impossible for anyone to know, so why am I being punished?” “You aren’t being punished.”

“You need to see that it could’ve been much worse than some burns on your legs.” “I know that I’m lucky that I only got burned, that I didn’t die out there. But I couldn’t have just let Glenn go alone.” Dale nodded, but kept quiet despite what was being said in his mind.

I sighed, closing my eyes briefly before leaning against a tree.

“Hey, are you alright?” “Yeah, im fine, sorry.” I paused. “I just uh, I need a minute.” I continued.

“Come here.” He stated worriedly, placing a hand on each of my shoulders, guiding me to take a seat on a nearby log.

“Whats wrong? Are you alright?” “Yeah, im just tired.” I shook my head.

“Fatigue is common in early stages of pregnancy, before Irma and I lost our baby, she was extremely fatigued, she couldn’t get out of bed most days.” His eyes lit up whenever he would talk about his late wife.

“On those days she would be suffering restless leg syndrome too, so I can help you with some tips that helped calm her down.”

My mind wandered to my nightmares, knowing that exhaustion was already on the table, but it had nothing to do with the exhaustion I was facing.

“Id love that, thank you.” I smiled softly.

“Ill take you to your tent, you can have a sleep.”

“Dale, you don-“ “Come on, let’s get you to sleep.” He smiled, helping me up and walking with me to the tent.

When we made it to my tent, I saw Daryl through the fabric of the door, duffel bag in hand as he shoved countless items of his into it.

The sight made my stomach drop, my heart felt like it was in my throat.

“Ill give you a minute.” Dale whispered, backing away, staying at a distance.

I took a few steps towards the tent, Daryl turning around and making eye contact with me.

Turning back around and continuing to fill up his duffle.

“I’m sorry.” I spoke softly. I waited for him to respond, only for him to grunt, ignoring me.

“I know you are mad, and you have every right to be, just please. Don’t leave.” I spoke, reaching to place a hand on his shoulder, but deciding against it, bringing my hand down and wringing them together.

It felt as though the duffle bag was a bottomless pit at this point.

Daryl turned around, flinging the duffle over his shoulder, and stepping around me.

“Daryl, I really am sorry. Please, can we talk?” Daryl stopped in the doorway. “We ain’t got nothing to talk about.” He muttered, leaving.

I sat on the bed, a stray tear rolling down my cheek.

The door opened and in my peripheral vision I could see Dale standing, waiting for me to respond to his presence.

“I fucked up Dale.” I shook my head. “Hey, it’s okay.” Dale stated softly, patting my shoulder as he stood in front of me.

“It’ll all be okay, you hear me?” He spoke again.

I looked up at Dale and more tears appeared.

“I really did it this time.” “Come on now, you know how he is. He will come around. Give him time.” He soothed me.

“Stop crying, you’ll be fine.” He smiled.

I sniffled slightly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands.

“Im sorry, it’s these hormones.” I chuckled softly.

“I get it, I was lucky, Irma wasn’t all that emotional. She was always happy, except if she could smell meat cooking.” He joked lightly, making me laugh.

“There you go. That did it.” He smiled.

“I think you should try to get some rest.” Dale nodded to the bed, motioning for me to lay down.

“Thank you Dale, for today.” “Dont mention it. Get some rest, I’ll get you when dinners ready.” “Thank you, but-“ “No buts.”

Dale left the tent, and once again I was stuck with my own thoughts.

I laid in bed, staring at the tent’s ceiling, watching as the shadow of the leaves danced in the wind.

Seconds had bled into minutes, and minutes had evolved to hours.

The shadows weren’t as vibrant against the suns now much more dull shine.

I lightly pulled up my shirt and rested my hand on my abdomen, tapping it lightly with my fingers. “Your mom really messed up bean.” I spoke softly, fingers creating a rhythm against the skin.

Day four

Exhaustion had settled in overnight.

My hand still resting on my abdomen, lightly tracing shapes as I watched the sun rise on the fabric above me.

Last night, much like the one before I chased sleep, nightmares from the fire, lucky to get maybe a full ten minutes in over both nights.

I sat up, glancing around the tent, wondering if I should leave the tent or wallow in my self pity for the day.

My answer came from a rumble in my stomach.

Moving my legs over the edge of the low sitting bed, I stood, taking off the bandage on my leg, the irritation slightly fading from red to pink, I applied some ointment to it before leaving it be.

I changed into a new pair of shorts, pulling over a t-shirt.

Looking down, I notice the shirt as one of Daryls.

I reach down and grab the hem of the shirt and lift it over my head, throwing it onto the bed, picking up another shirt and putting it on.

I look at the shirt that was wadded up on the bed and sighed, picking it up and holding it to my face, inhaling Daryls scent.

I dropped it back onto the bed and walked out of the tent, making my way quietly over to the camp.

The camp was still quiet, signalling that everyone was still asleep.

I took an apple from a basket that was sitting on the table near the RV, sitting down and taking a bite in the slight breeze, watching for the others.

I sat playing with the core of the apple when the door to the RV opened, watching as Dale stepped out.

He looked over to me, and tilted his head slightly.

“Getting slow there Dale, im up before you for a change.” I joked lightly as he shut the door. “It doesn’t count if you don’t sleep.” He spoke sternly, coming over to examine me. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

I shook my head as looked down. “Want talk about it?” He asked softly. “No, I can’t.” I shook my head.

Dale nodded in response and sat next to me, taking an apple and eating it.

It wasn’t long until we were joined by the others, one by one they started piling out of their tents.

Lori looked over to me wearily, before looking over to her husband, who softly smiled at me.

I nodded towards Rick, who nodded back, turning to kiss his wife.

And of course, wherever Lori was, Shane wasn’t too far away.

Andrea was standing next to Shane, sparking up a conversation with him as he brushed her off.

Carol was making her way to the fire, to cook eggs or porridge sachets that Glenn had found before the collapse.

She smiled softly at me as she walked past me, smiling as she set up near the fire pit.

I heard footsteps and I looked over to see Daryl walking towards the group.

He stopped momentarily, staring at my face, fighting with himself between coming over and walking away, choosing the latter.

I felt a small touch to my arm and turned to be met with Dales hand.

“He will come around.” He nodded softly.

I stood up, moving around the table and walking back towards my tent. “Hey, where are you going?” Shane called out.

I raised my hand and waved him off as I left the group.

I could hear rushed footsteps behind me as I walked.

“Ill be okay on my own Dale.” I smiled softly. “I know that but-“ “But you don’t want to leave your ‘post’?”

“No, it’s not like that.” “You can go and eat breakfast Dale. I won’t steal a car.” I turned, promising the elder man.

Dale stood, unsure of what to do.

“If you’re that worried about leaving me alone, how about I go and sit with Beth?”

“I may as well leave you alone.” He spoke, eyes widening as the words left his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ “Dale, it’s okay.” I assured him, patting his shoulder to try and stop his guilty conscience.

“I mean you have a point.” I continued a small chuckle on my lips.

“You need to eat, so, you go back to everyone, eat something and I’ll meet you at the farmhouse.”

“I don’t know.” “Look, you can escort me to the house, and make sure that im with someone before leaving.”

“Okay.” He nodded, motioning for me to follow him.

The walk to the house didn’t take long, Maggie had been standing on the front porch, looking over to the camp.

I glanced over to see Glenn sitting alone on a camping chair, kicking the dust under his shoe.

I looked back to Maggie, knowing the fear, the pain behind her eyes.

“Give me a moment.” Dale smiled.

Dale took a step forward, Maggie looking from Glenn to the two of us.

Maggie glanced at me, but quickly tore her attention to Dale.

The two stepped aside, talking in hushed whispers, occasionally glancing at me.

Maggie nodded, and Dale smiled, walking back over to me.

“I’m not feeling the best today, Maggie has offered to stay with you for the day.” He softly patted my shoulder.

“What?” “Yeah, I’m going to lay down, I really don’t feel like myself.” He wandered off towards the camp.

“Im sorry Maggie, I didn’t think he would pawn me off-“ “I offered.” She was quick to speak.

“I needed to talk to you about the other day, and I haven’t known how too.” She sighed.

“How’s Beth?” I asked. “She is better, the colour is coming back in her face.” She smiled softly. “Do you want to come see her?” She asked. “Can I?” “Of course.” She nodded, taking my hand in hers and taking me upstairs to see Beth.

When we entered the room, as Maggie said, Beth’s face had more colour in it than it did two days before.

Bath was laying on her back, a nasal tube fed through her nose, being held in place by tape.

She was beginning to blink more and be more responsive.

“She is responding to touch, she squeezes my hand now.” Maggie smiled.

“Im glad.” I smiled softly, as Patricia walked into the room, smiling as she seen me.

“Your leg, its healing well.” She grinned. “Come on.” Maggie nodded her head, pulling me to follow her again.

Once we made it out of the door, which Maggie pushed open with a bang, the group looked over to us.

“Where are we going?” I asked as Maggie ran ahead of me, running after her. “Trust me.” She smiled softly, turning back.

Maggie bee-lined to the stable and I followed.

I could hear the nickering and the whinnying as I entered the stable.

I walked over to Betsy, rubbing my hand against her snout, smiling as he blew air from her nostrils.

A clutter behind me made me jump, I turned to see Maggie lifting one of the saddles, and resting it on Nelly’s gate, opening it and leading the horse out.

She saddled Nelly and climbed on the back of her.

“You coming?” She asked, extending her hand out for me to take. I smiled and took her hand, moving to climb up onto Nelly’s back.

Maggie began to walk out of the stable, gradually picking up speed.

“Hey!”

I turned my head to see Shane and Daryl looking over to the two of us on the horse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Daryl yelled. “(Y/n)! Get down from there!” Daryl began to walk towards the barn. “Hold on.” Maggie looked back and smiled. “What the hell?” He yelled as he began to run to the stables.

Maggie flicked the reins, and squeezed nelly’s sides, signalling for her to speed up.

“Stop!” He yelled.

My arms tightly wrapped around Maggies middle, the wind whipping my hair from my face.

For the first time since the collapse, I felt free.

The wind hitting my face, my hair flowing behind me as we raced through the path Maggie had taken me down two days ago.

Maggie signalled for Nelly to slow down.

The horse began to slow down from a gallop, to a trot down to a walk.

“You okay?” Maggie asked, slightly looking back. “Yeah.” I paused. “My ass is sore though.” I laughed.

Maggie let out a laugh as she walked Nelly over to the waters edge, climbing down and hitching her.

Maggie extended her hand for me to take, helping me climb down as we walked over to the water.

Maggie stopped and sat in the grass.

“Sit with me.” She smiled up at me.

I nodded and sat down next to her, crossing my legs facing her.

“Lets talk.” “Dale asked you to do this didn’t he?” I asked looking down. “He mentioned that you weren’t talking to anyone.” She started. “He also said that you aren’t sleeping, what’s going on?” She asked. I sighed, looking down.

“I can’t sleep without Daryl.” I confessed. “And normally that’d be all but-“ “But?” “Ive been having nightmares.” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Ive been having nightmares about the run, the collapse.” My cheat began to rise heavily.

“What happened?” Maggie asked, scooting closer to me, putting her hand on my back and rubbing circles. “After the collapse, after I got out..” I took a deep breath. “There was this man. He grabbed me, he had intentions, and I fought him and ran.”

I looked over to Maggie, to see her face had slightly fallen as I told the story.

“He caught up. Had me against a wall, he had his tongue on my face.” I shook my head in disgust. “If it weren’t for Glenn, it would’ve been worse.” I finished. “Glenn saved you?” Maggie asked, I nodded.

“Ive been having nightmares about what could’ve happened, and I can’t close my eyes without seeing him, without his breath invading my senses.”

“Glenn told me that there were others, talking about what they were going to do with me.” I closed my eyes. “(Y/n), I am so sorry.” “What are you sorry for?” “I practically asked you to go so Glenn wasn’t alone.”

“Dont blame yourself for my own actions.” I paused looking into Maggies eyes, putting my hands on her shoulder.

“I’m okay Maggie, I went on my own accord and i’m glad that I went, because If I didn’t who knows, what could’ve happened to Glenn.” “I heard Rick and daddy talking about that, Thank you for saving him.” “I only did what I had to do.” I smiled softly as she shared a soft smile with me.

Maggie took a breath, looking over the water.

Birds in the distance, making the silence between the two of us bearable.

“Are you guys talking yet?” I asked.

Maggie shook her head, placing a hand over her forehead.

“He changed since he went to find daddy.” She began.

“When he came back he blames me for freezing, he says that I got into his head.”

“How did you get into his head?” “I told him I loved him.” She sighed.

“And do you?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Of course I do, but it was going so well. I just don’t know why it is like this.” “Because, Glenn didn’t have anyone before you, not in the group, he has to adapt to this.” I paused. “Just give him time.”

She nodded her head, smiling softly.

“Do you hear that?” Maggie asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder.

I looked at her confusedly, she held her hand up.

“Listen.”

I did what Maggie told me, and listened. The sound of hooves hitting the ground grew closer. Maggie stood, reaching down to help me up, looking in the direction of the hooves.

Through the trees, I could see a familiar light bay coat.

“Betsy?” I asked softly, looking at Maggie.

Betsy broke the tree line, and I stopped breathing when I realised that she wasn’t alone.

Daryl signalled for her to slow down, climbing down and walked towards me in a wrathful stride.

“What the hell was that?” He called, getting closer. “Huh?” He asked. “Daryl-“ Maggie tried to talk. “Nah, I ain’t here for you.” He shook his head, pointing to Maggie. “Get outta here.” He sneered at her.

“No, Im not leaving you with her.” Maggie argued. “Maggie, it’s okay.” I whispered, nodding my head.

She looked at me for a moment before sighing. “Fine. If you hurt her, I swear to god.” She muttered, getting in his face.

I watched as Maggie unhitched Nelly and climbed onto her.

Maggie’s face shared one last look of concern, before looking at me, nodding in acceptance as I nodded for her to go.

I looked over to Daryl who was watching Maggie ride off.

The air was thick with tension as his eyes averted to me.

Daryl began to pace, eyes not leaving me as he began to flatten the grass beneath his feet.

The silence was making my head hurt, my heart pounding against my chest as it filled with anxiety.

“Yell at me.” I shakily spoke.

Daryl looked at me, eyes hard.

“Yell at me, scream at me.” I nodded, pausing. “Just please say something, get it over with because I can’t handle the silence anymore Daryl.” I sighed, looking down at my wringing hands.

“What the hell are ya’ playing at?” He finally spoke. “Ya’ go out and almost get yourself killed? Now ya’ runnin’ off on the back of a horse with Maggie?” He spat, throwing his hands in the air. Daryl stopped pacing momentarily, staring at me.

“I didn’t know if ya’ were dead!” He yelled, moving closer to me. I looked up to meet his eyes, the eyes I fell in love with full of anger.

His eyes were watering, his jaw clenched as his chest continued to heavily rise and fall with each breath he took.

I reached out for him, placing my hand on his bicep. He snatched it from my touch as if it burnt him. I pulled my hand back, and crossed my arms, watching how he began to pace once more.

I moved to speak, but Daryl cut me off.

“I went looking for you!” “I went to the highway, you weren’t there! I drove into town, you weren’t there!” “I looked everywhere and you weren’t there!” He yelled as he pointed to the ground. “When I saw you in that car, I was relieved.” He paused. “Then I realised you were covered in shit.” “I thought you were almost dead!” He yelled.

“You’re angry.” I spoke calmly as he snapped his head around to look at me. “And I don’t blame you.” “When you’re out there, I get so worried, and I hate not knowing if you’re okay.” I paused. “Not knowing if you’ll come home.” “I should’ve told you.” I looked up.

Daryl’s eyes softened briefly, quickly returning to their angry glare.

“But I didn’t, I didn’t tell you because I know that you would have made me stay.” “If I had stayed here Daryl, Glenn could’ve died.” I finished. “And?” He scoffed as if it didn’t matter. “Really? ‘And?’” I asked, my blood slowly starting to simmer. “Glenn could’ve died out there!” “It wouldn’t have been you!” “If it weren’t for Glenn Daryl, I could’ve died!”

“If you didn’t go in the first place you would’ve been fine!” he yelled. “Glenn is our friend! He is our family Daryl!” “He ain’t shit to me!” He yelled, pointing in the direction of the farm.

I raised my brow and scoffed, enraging Daryl more. I moved closer to Daryl, moving to poke him in the chest.

“If it weren’t for Glenn, Id be gone.” “I could’ve been dead on the street, or taken to their camp and god knows what else.” “If it weren’t for Glenn, Lori and Carl wouldn’t have Rick back.” “Glenn may not mean ‘shit’ to you, but he has done so much for this group. Myself included, and you..”

“I wasn’t going to let him go out there alone, if it was you going out there I would’ve done the exact same thing.” I made sure to look into his eyes as tears threatened to spill out of my own.

My heart felt as though it was going to explode through my chest, my stomach filled with anxiety as my tears began to slowly fall.

I took a step back and put a hand over my face, groaning as I tilted my head back. These dumbass hormones.

“You can be mad at me all you want, but I need you.” I looked at him. Daryl carefully watched me, concern instead of anger crossing his features.

“I am so tired.” My voice broke as I sighed. “I am a pregnant, hormonal, emotional wreck Daryl, you aren’t talking to me. I haven’t slept in two nights because I can’t sleep without you. Whenever I manage to close my eyes, I’m plagued by nightmares.” He took a step towards me, gently reaching out.

“I did what I thought was right.” I swallowed. “And im sorry.” My composure broke, tears cascading down my cheeks, sobs emitting from my chest.

I felt his chest crash against me and his arms wrapping around me as he buried his face into my hair, kissing the top of my head softly.

His arms gently squeezed me as I cried into his chest, my hands gripping the back of his shirt as I pulled him closer, terrified of the absence of his body.

“Shh, i got ya.” He mumbled against my hair. “Im sorry.” I sniffled into his chest, Daryls chin moving against my scalp as he shook his head no.

“Don’t.” He whispered.

I felt Daryl pull away, and I held on tighter.

“Come on.” He gently pushed me off of him, looking down at me, grabbing my hand and leading me to Betsy.

Without warning Daryl lifted me onto the horse, waiting for me to get comfortable, swinging my leg to straddle her.

Daryl lifted himself onto Betsy, his arms either side of me, his left hand resting on my stomach as he gently kissed behind my ear. His legs signalled for Betsy to move, and she began to walk back to the farm.

Maggie was pacing around the stables by the time we got back. Relief washing over her face when she saw the two of us.

A small smile washed over her face as she noticed where Daryls hand had been sitting.

As soon as Betsy stopped, Daryl climbed down, reaching up to lift me off of her.

Once my feet were planted on the ground, Daryl moved his hands from my hips.

“Ill unsaddle her.” Maggie spoke as Daryl moved to take Betsy inside. “Go.” She nodded to Daryl as she led Betsy into the stables.

Daryls hand reached down and grabbed mine, leading me to our tent.

I turned around to look at Maggie, mouthing a thank you to her, getting a nod in response. We walked past the others, making our way to our tent.

Daryl, pushed the fabric open, gently pulling me into the tent after him.

He let the fabric fall back down as me moved to lay on the bed, pulling me down to lay with him. His arms enveloped me, encasing me in his warmth.

I could feel his face in my neck as his placed soft kisses along the skin.

I turned around in his arms to face him, my hand moving the hair from his forehead as he looked down to my stomach, his fingers resting on my hip as his thumb stretched over my stomach, running over it.

He stayed silent, eyes glued to where his baby was being protected.

“Hey.” I whispered. “You okay?” I asked softly, moving a hand to his cheek.

He lightly pulled back, but relaxed into my touch, a soft smile on his lips.

His hand moved from my hip and pushed my shirt up, placing his hand flat against where the bump will be.

He opened his mouth to speak, hesitating he closed it again and looked back down.

“Baby? What’s up?” I asked, slightly worried. I moved slightly, resting on my elbow as I looked at him. “Is something wrong?” I asked wearily.

He shook his head, his fingers tracing shapes over my stomach. “What’s it like?” He asked quietly, a small blush on his cheeks. “Being pregnant?“ I asked, searching his eyes.

He nodded slightly.

I smiled softly, motioning for him to lay back.

Daryl rolled over to lay on his back, his right arm resting behind his head as I cuddled into his side, my head resting on his left shoulder.

“It feels weird.” I spoke softly, my fingers tracing a pattern on his chest. He hummed, as his fingers ran circles on my arm.

“Im always emotional, I try to hide it most of the time because I don’t want to be annoying.” I chuckled.

“I miss you all of the time.” I blushed softly. “Although, I think that’s just a personal preference.” I chuckled softly.

“Im exhausted, but I can not stand not doing something.” I paused. “Im always nervous about Bean, about how they’re doing in there.” I admitted, my stomach fluttering as Daryl pulled me closer into his side.

“Its just crazy, to think that in here.” I moved my hand to rest over his hand that had stayed on my stomach.

“A baby, made from the best parts of us and love is growing into a little human.”

Daryl kept quiet as I spoke.

“I read that book the other day, just to check up on Bean’s growth.” “Bean is the size of a prune, Little bones are being formed. Bean even has a tiny little face.” I smiled up at him.

Daryl was silent, just listening to every thing I say.

“Ill need support, a lot of it, I cant do this alone.” I whispered. “There are a few things that you’ll enjoy about my pregnancy.”

I was waiting for a response, Daryls shallow breaths filling the tent. I moved my head slightly to look up.

Daryl had fallen asleep, his mouth partially open as soft snores emitted from him.

I smiled softly and snuggled closer into him. “That’s some information I’ll have to tell you tomorrow.” I chuckled to myself.

My eyes watched the shadows of the branches on the roof of the tent, my eyelids beginning to droop as I softly yawned.

Daryl in his sleep state, once again pulled me closer to him, wrapping both arms around me and sighing as he drifted into a more deep sleep.

My eyes closed as I listened to the steady beat of Daryl’s heart.

My mind, my body finally letting me fall into a sleep.

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Next Part

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #The Walking Dead #twd

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt76

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

That night Chloe and Marinette were at the hotel. Marinette felt somewhat guilty for the way she’d been relying on Chloe. Even now she was using her as a pillow because she just couldn’t get comfortable on her own. Granted Chloe hadn’t complained at all but between feeling useless and taking up all her time Marinette was starting to feel like a huge burden.

“I know you’re not asleep, you’re far too tense. What’s wrong?” She jumped a little at Chloe’s voice, but couldn’t bring herself to look up at her.

“Why don’t you like Barbara?” Marinette didn’t even know where the question came from. Yes, the tension had been strange but it wasn’t Chloe’s normal hostile attitude towards those she didn’t like either. She’d been planning on just leaving it alone unless they interacted more. However she also didn’t want to discuss what was actually bothering her.

“It’s not that I don’t like her…” Chloe paused and Marinette looked up to see her frowning in thought.

“You don’t know why you reacted that way.” It wasn’t a question but Chloe nodded anyway. “Do you have any guesses? Or does it feel like something you’ve experienced before?” Marinette had learned not to just ignore feelings like this. First because, with the Miraculous especially, their instincts were there for a reason and ignoring them wasn’t a good idea. Second, letting Chloe mull over a problem by herself had a tendency to blow up in everyone’s face.

“It sort of feels like the way I was with you when we were little. I think…” She paused and Marinette just waited, hugging her a bit tighter so she’d know it was okay. “I think I’m jealous that she can understand you in a way I can’t. That you can share things with her you can’t with me.” The words were soft, like she didn’t want to be heard. “It’s stupid I know.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid and I’m glad you told me.” Marinette paused to think about the problem. Unfortunately it was something time was likely to fix. “She might have a better understanding of what I’m going through, but you’re the one here with me all the time. You’re living through it with me and that’s far more important. Assuming you don’t get sick of me using you as a horse, pillow, and errand girl before I get things figured out and can actually do things on my own again.”

“Until we figure things out. And honestly I like being with you all the time. Not to mention I actually feel needed which is really nice. I know it’s selfish but before this happened I always felt like more of a tag a long than anything else. I’ve been waiting for you to decide that you deserve better, or that I’m just a phase you’re going through. Now I at least feel useful.” That finally caused Marinette to really look at her. The guilt in her expression hurt, as did knowing that she’d missed this, probably since they started dating.

“Chloe, you’ve never been a phase and even if there’s better out there, which I highly doubt, I don’t want it. I want you.” The look of shock and hope on her face caused another wave of guilt. “What’s more I need you, and not because of my legs. Whenever I feel like I can’t do something, or like I’m a failure, you’re there to tell me to get over myself and do it. Whenever everything gets too overwhelming you’re there to pick it apart into manageable pieces. When everything is just too much, you’re there to tell me that I don’t have to do everything by myself. I don’t need you because I can’t walk. I need you because you’re you.”

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Damian was texting Luka on the burner phone he’d bought not long after finding out Marinette was Ladybug. He’d wanted a way to communicate that his family wouldn’t have access to so that they didn’t get information they shouldn’t have. He was especially grateful for that device now that Drake was in Paris.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” Tim’s question caused him to roll his eyes. He didn’t bother answering. No one in his family seemed to know what to do with that information though he didn’t know why. It didn’t seem to be attached to the fact that he liked another boy either. “It’s just… honestly with the way you act around other people and the fact that you’ve never really shown interest in anyone before we all kind of figured you were ace.”

Damian leveled his brother with a flat look. Once he’d started feeling things for Luka he’d done a lot of research on sexual and romantic attraction. The sheer number of orientations and vocabulary was honestly annoying to him. He understood that most people wanted to feel like there were other people out there that were the same as them, but it seemed like there were so many overly specific descriptions that it just made his head hurt. Eventually he decided that finding a specific label for what he was, wasn’t just unnecessary, but also limiting. He didn’t want to put himself in a box that would define him when he wasn’t certain about any of it in the first place.

“I didn’t realize you all talked about my personal life so much. You really should concentrate on your own rather than try to analyze mine.” Tim frowned at him but it looked more like confusion than insulted.

“We care about you, whether you want to believe it or not, and we want you to be happy. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to be with someone if you don’t really want to be.” Damian could only scoff and the stupidity of that statement.

“When do I ever do something I don’t want to do without one of you forcing it on me?” Tim actually flinched at the question. It was true though. His family had an incredibly annoying habit of not only inserting themselves where they weren’t wanted, but also pushing him where they wished with no real regard for what he wanted.

“We’re just trying to help you. You act so certain of everything but you’re still just a kid and considering a lot of your attitude and opinions were set by your mother we want to try and make you open to new things.” That just brought another eye roll.

“And you really think forcing me to do things against my will or better judgement actually makes me more open to things? Given the fact that none of you even bother to ask me what I think or feel about anything you’re just projecting your assumptions on me before making decisions about what I should or shouldn’t like or do. None of you know me at all yet you constantly feel the need to ‘fix’ me. All you’re really doing is making me less likely to try things on my own since I know you’ll all just fixate on it and then force me to do it the way you think I should.”

Tim was looking at him like he’d never seen him before but Damian just ignored him and continued texting. That was another reason he didn’t want to label himself. Everyone in his life already did it for him, no matter how inaccurate it actually was.

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moved-glowfaery · 4 years

Text

Them Brooklyn boys is big (Rewrite)

Era: Canon

Prompt: Spot but not how we know him.

Words: 1958

Notes: once upon a time I wrote this, and i decided i wanted to rewrite it. Also im incredibly bad at proofreading so i hope its readable.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

For the first time in the seventeen years Davey had roamed around on this earth, he had crossed the Brooklyn bridge. It seemed odd to him, how it had taken him so long. but everything he needed was in lower Manhattan. He had never before needed to leave the small island for anything. But here he was, entering in Brooklyn domain. Davey was not a scared kid. He had a little brother and a sister to look after. He had no time to be scared. But when earlier today the group of Newsies had looked terrified of the mere idea to enter Brooklyn. It scared him. The newsies weren't afraid of a fight, he had seen that. He had figured they weren't afraid of anything. Yet the idea of Brooklyn settled fear into their hearts. Even Race, who sold in Brooklyn daily, had avoided going to Brooklyn. Maybe it was not just Brooklyn. Maybe it was the idea of having to propose this idea of a strike to the leader of Brooklyn. Spot Conlon. Davey did not know what to except for him. He must be a tough man to make the newsies scared.

It did not help Davey’s nerves when he noticed the small group of boys following them on a safe distance once they stepped foot in Brooklyn.

"Jack," he muttered, tugging on the boy’s sleeve. The Manhattan leader grunted but did not respond. Les was walking in front of them, almost skipping of excitement. The boy had looked like he won the lottery when Jack had promised to take him along. If Jack hadn't offered, Les would most likely have caused a scene, his little brother could be quite dramatic when he wanted to.

"I can't wait to tell papa about this!" Les bragged. Jack led them to the docks. The further they went from the bridge, the more kids showed up, sitting on boxes, or walking around, every eye on the three Manhattan newsies.

"We're almost there" Jack muttered softly towards Davey. The path they were on ended on one of the platforms of the docks. Surrounded by wooden boxes.

"Jack Kelly," a sugar-coated voice sounded. Davey's eye fell on the girl. She was seated on one of the boxes. Her hands rested next to her, her legs crossed. The girl tilted her head as the looked at the trio, dark brown curls dancing around her face as she moved.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" The accent was heavy but did not make her voice any less sweet.

"We kinda needs ya help," Jack started. Davey raised his eyebrow, just slightly. This girl would probably bring them to Spot,

"Well I is assuming it is bad news," she twirled a curl around her finger as she talked, playing with the piece of hair. "Otherwise ma second woulda come,"

Jack rolled up his sleeves, exposing his sunkissed lower arms.

"I still don't understand why Elmer has to sell in Manhattan," he complained.

"Racer sells in Brooklyn all the time. It's only fairs that one of mines can sell in your borough," "Wait, you're Spot Conlon?" Davey asked. The words escaped from his lips before he could stop it. The girl's gaze moved towards Davey. She lifted her chin up a bit as she ran her gaze over him, observing him front from head to toe. She pressed her lips together for a second before her gaze moved back to Jack.

"Who is the new kid?" she asked.

"This is Davey," Jack sighed, the boy clearly did not want to waste his time here.

Spot jumped down from the box she had sat on. Her black skirt moved around her as she walked towards Davey.

She rolled up her dark red sleeves before she spat in her hand, holding her hand out to Davey.

"Nice to meet ya, Davey," she smiled, a soft sweet smile. It reminded Davey of the girls in his class.

Now that she stood in front of him, he noticed how tiny she was. She was at least a head smaller then he was and her body was so petite he wondered if someone could break her in half by a simple hug.

Davey swallowed the lump in his throat, before he spat in his hand, shaking hers. "Nice to meet you," he said, trying not to frown in disgust.

"Ya don’t belong on the streets, do ya?" she turned her attention to Les and Davey saw the opportunity to wipe his hand on his pants. "Y'all look to clean to be on the streets," she crouched down in front of Les, although she barely had to with her height. "Aren't you a Minchin," she smiled towards the boy. Davey could see the excited beaming of his little brother. "If ya ever get tired of Manhattan and those boring lads, we can find ya a nice place here in Brooklyn,"

Davy placed his hand on Les' shoulder. He fought the urge to push the boy behind him, back into safety.

"We don't have all day, Spot," Jack grunted.

"Of course, Kelly. Always in a hurry aren't ya?"Spot walked back, now leaning against the box she sat on earlier. "So, what ya need my help for?" she played with a curl again, her eyes roaming around the boys watching them from the boxes and back to Jack.

"We are on a strike," Jack started.

"So I've heard," she interrupted him, Jack sighed behind him.

"We send boys around every borough, but we's all know that at the end of the day they all listen to ya," This brought a smile on Spot's face. No not just a smile, more of a confident smirk.

"Whatcha plan?"

"We stop the wagons from delivering to the city, this way no one can sell, not even scabs,"

"That is all?" The curl dropped from between Spot's fingers, the girl now folding her hands together.

"We’ve got a reporter willing to write about it. She is at the square tomorrow, promised us a headline," Davey added, their hope was settled on the headline. Without a headline, there was no news.

"A reportah? A female reportah?" Don’t get me wrong, boys. I'm all for working girls. But I don't recall no female reportah writing headlines. The men on top are far too afraid of us to allow that,"

"Our story will convince them," Jack spoke, his voice beaming with confidence.

"I got a few problems with ya plan," Spot started. The confident smile dropped off Jack's face.

"First, scabs will sell. Even if you stop the wagons, they will find ways to let scabs sell. That’s why them is scabs.”

“We convince-” Davey started, but Spot did not let him finish.

"Only way to stop scabs is with a good ole soakin'"

"We can't beat up other kids," Davey stated. She did not send him a sweet smile this time. She only stared at Davey for a second before returning her gaze to Jack, ignoring Davey’s comment.

"Second, no matter how good ya reporter is, do ya really think the papes will write a headline about kids refusing to sell the papes?"

"it's about competition," Davey explained before Jack could. "If we stop the World from selling, the Sun will want to write about it. And without the World, more people will buy the Sun. So more people will know about the strike."

"Where did ya pick this kid up? Ya plucked him out of his school seat?" There was nothing left of the sweet flirting girl from a few minutes ago. The gaze in her eyes was cold and she sounded annoyed.

"He knows what he is talking about," Jack defended the kid next to him.

"Then explain this to me, Davey," she crossed her arms. "Why should I lose a day of sale, will the kids selling the Sun, get all my customers. Yes, the new prices suck, but we've got mouths to feed,"

“It’s not about us against the kids selling the Sun. It’s about the World bringing back their pricing,” Davey tried to turn the conversation back to their point. His palms were sweaty as he tried to figure ways to talk him out of this. Jack’s entire posture was tense. His brow was furrowed and Davey could see the muscle’s in Jack’s arm tense up as Spot started talking again.

"Davey, have you ever had to look after a borough full of kids? Six-year-olds starving cause they made a bad sale that day? You can come in here, talking like the posh schoolboy you are, but I guess that at the end of the day you go home to your family and get a nice meal. We have to go to bed hungry cause we were on a strike. I will not let any kid of mine starve for your stupid games," Spot walked towards Davey as she talked, stopping a few centimetres from the boy’s face. He could feel her hot breath against his face. He could count the freckles on her face and see the strike of green in her brown eyes. She ran a finger across his shirt, tracing the plaid pattern.

"Spot-" Jack tried to interrupt her. He grabbed Davey’s sleeve, ready to pull him away if needed.

"We won’t join ya stupid strike," Spot spoke, turning around on her heels, her eyes moving down all the kids on the boxes.

'"Spot we need ya," Jack pleaded. Davey had not before seen that desperate in Jack’s eyes. But it seemed that Spot was immune to that.

“That is my decision, Kelly," she was already on her way back towards her box, climbing back on top of it to sit down.

"No other borough will join us without you,"

"Then so be it," She pressed her lips together for a second, once she sat down. Then her lip curled in a smile like she was amusing herself. Davey was not the one to get angry, but she was smiling while they were practically begging her to join. That did not sit right with him.

“But, if ya make that headline if ya prove this thing can work. We will join ya,”

“You don’t understand-”

“Get your kid under control, Kelly,” Spot hissed. “He may be smart but he is a pain in the ass already.”

“Davey,” Jack muttered under his breath, a soft warning.

“I think it’s time for you go back to Manhattan,” Spot crossed her legs, sprawling out her skirt.

“But-,” Davey started again, Jack softly hissed at him, urging him to be quiet.

“I said, it’s time for you to go back to Manhattan,” she tossed her hair over her shoulder, shooting him a cold look.

Jack pulled on Davey’s sleeve, a silent command. The Manhattan leader then grabbed a hold of Les’ shoulders and turned the boy around, away from Spot.

“Oh, tell Racer I said Hey, we missed him today,” The sweet voice was back, almost like the conversation hadn’t happened.

Jack didn’t respond to it. Another tug on Davey’s sleeve, urging him to keep walking. He could hear the cuss words rolling over Jack’s lips, as soft as possible so not even Les could hear them by accident.

“What do we do now, boss?” Skittery asked. The boy was the first to jump off the box he was seated on, his eyes on the Brooklyn leader.

“We tell the other newsies the same when they come and asks. We won’t join no strike before they have proven themselves,” Spot stated, her eyes were still on the direction the boys had left in, even when they were out of sight.

“Anything else?”

“Get everyone back to work. We’ve got papes to sell!”

#Newsies #Newsies fic #writing #my writing #newsies fanfic #newsies prompt #spot conlon #jack kelly #davey jacobs

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benhardyisdaddy · 5 years

Text

All You Had To Do Was Ask

MASTERLIST

(ooof hello to this smutty fic okay FIRST OFF i apologize in advance cuz i havent wrote a full on smut fic in forever so i feel rusty so im SORRY IF ITS NOT GOOD but i hope u all like it and especially the anon that requested it xoxo also these gifs are how i imagined his face to look when he walks in on y/n sksksk)

Word Count: 2,822

RogerxReader

WARNING: smut, masturbation with an object

Being on tour with the world famous rock band Queen wasn’t as chaotic or crazy as you thought it would be. Yeah, their parties got a little rowdy and the sea of women you’ve had to swim through to get a single drink was insane - it wasn’t nearly as bad as what you had envisioned in your head when your best friend, Roger, invited you.

“We could really use a woman’s touch on tour. Keep our feet on the ground or what not.”

Roger was over at your flat as he lounged on your sofa with a beer in his hand, his feet on your coffee table. You were sitting diagonally from him as you listened to him attempt to persuade you into coming along on a five month tour with the band.

“Five months?” you asked shocked. “Roger, how will I pay bills if I tell my job I’m leaving for five months to go do god-knows-what with you all?”

Roger shook his head and takes a swig from his bottle.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

You lean forward and push his feet off of your coffee table, causing him to lightly laugh.

“See? Like that! You’ll put us in our place and everything will be perfect. We need you.” he says with giant puppy dog eyes.

You narrow yours and tense your jaw in deep concentration.

“It’ll kind of be like a holiday.” you murmur.

Roger eyes go wide as he smiles and sits up more.

“Yes! Exactly! Look at it like you’re going on a holiday. Just with an awesome famous band.” he teases, throwing you a wink.

You roll your eyes and smile as you think for a moment longer, finally coming to a decision.

“Alright, fine,” you say, causing him to ball up his fists and whisper ‘yes’. “But the moment I feel left out, I’m leaving. Knowing you Roger Taylor, you’ll be busy doing what and who during your free time.”

“I promise,” he says, leaning forward with a big goofy grin on his face. “I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”

And he was, sadly, right. You’ve enjoyed yourself so much these past two months with the boys. Roger’s kept his promise about not leaving you out and you really felt like you were apart of the band. You all were almost to the next city where they’d be staying for a full week. You were almost to your hotel and you were beyond excited. You can finally get to your room and release some steam that’s been bugging you this whole car ride. Your thighs are squeezed together as you watch the boys all laugh and talk about something you weren’t paying attention to.

You look to Roger and admire how he smiles - his tongue slightly pushing between his teeth and then fully licking his lips. You were so sexually frustrated that you began imagining how nice his tongue must feel and how experienced he must be. You’re continuing to stare at him and are so lost in your thoughts, you don’t even realize him looking back at you.

“You alright?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

Oh god, you were biting your lip hard. You shake your head a bit and smile to him.

“Oh, yeah. Just tired.” you lie.

He stares at you a moment longer, a smirk-like smile on his face. If he could read your mind, you’d be screwed. Hopefully by him, you think to yourself. Where were all of these thoughts and feelings coming from? You’ve never thought of Roger that way. Alright, why are you lying to yourself? You’ve been so madly in love with him from the first time you met when you were sixteen. You deny the fact you like him so you wouldn’t be completely devastated when he tells you he doesn’t feel the same. Who cares if you think about your best friend when you touch yourself late at night? It’s not like anybody else needs to know your dirty little secret.

“And here we are!” says John as he looks out the window and up at the hotel.

Hotel? This was more like a condo. It was huge and beautiful. You stare up at it in awe as Roger slides next to you and does the same. You look over to him and admire the way his eyes flutter up and the slight smile on his lips. He looks to you and you quickly look back to the building fast. Roger slightly laughs as the door opens up and out he goes. He reaches his hand out for you to take and helps you out. You all make your way into the building and to the front desk. People stare at you in amazement as they whisper and smile and point at the boys, obviously recognizing them.

Joe checks in to his suite, then Brian, then Freddie, then Roger. Now it’s your turn.

“Last name?” asks the lady.

Her eyes keep darting over to Roger as she blushes and smiles to him. You narrow your eyes and lean forward, making sure your voice brings her back to reality.

“Y/l/n.” you say loudly, causing her to slightly jump.

You can hear Roger hold back a laugh behind you as the lady embarrassingly smiles and types away on the computer.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I don’t see you on here for a room. When did you make it?” she asks.

“What?” you ask, shocked. “We made these reservation days ago. Are you sure?”

She types some more on the computer and shakes her head, frowning.

“No, ma’am. I have nothing.”

“Well, then can we just rent a room right now for her?” asks Roger, walking up beside you.

“We’re completely booked, Mr. Taylor. Believe me, if I could, I would.” she says smiling to him.

You exhale and close your eyes, trying to think of something.

“Just bunk with me.” says Roger to you.

You look to him and your heart jumps. The thought about sharing a room with Roger made you feel shaky and light headed.

“Share a room with you?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Your room, Mr. Taylor, does have two separate beds in it. Along with a kitchen, bathroom and living area.” she tells him.

Roger looks to you and smugly smiles as he reaches down and grabs your bag.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay in mine.”

***

You were really hoping for some alone time and that’s not going to happen now. You couldn’t do what you were going to do, knowing that Roger was right there. You both were in your room as you look around in awe. The suite was large and beautifully decorated. You move past Roger and grab your toiletry bag and head for the bathroom. You close the door and lock it fast. You place your bag on the counter and unzip it. Your heart sinks.

“No!” you say loudly.

“You alright?” asks Roger, knocking on the door.

You jump and force yourself to calm down and laugh.

“Oh, yeah! I’m fine! Just left something back at the hotel.”

“Oh, do you need me to send our driver to get it? What was it?”

“Oops, here it is!” you lie.

It wasn’t there. The one thing you were hoping to see - your vibrator. You couldn’t dare tell Roger that it was missing. How embarrassing. You sulk for a moment longer until you walk back out to the living room and spot Roger inside the bedroom. The lady was right, there were two large beds right next to each other. Great. You pick your bed and slide under the covers, your back facing Roger.

“Going to bed already?” he asks, shocked.

You fake yawn as you speak.

“Yeah, I’m super tired. Night, Rog.”

He stares at you as he frowns.

“Oh. Night, y/n.”

***

The next day was a little better, or at least so you keep telling yourself. You were at rehearsals for the whole day with the boys as they practiced for their set. It was nearing 10pm when they all finally call it quits. Roger walks up to you all sweaty and grinning.

“Sounded amazing.” you tell him.

“You look amazing.” he says a smirk on his face - or until he realizes what he just said.

Your eyebrows go up as Roger stumbles with his words. His face goes red as he attempts to explain what he meant.

“What I mean is that your shirt looks good on you. The shirt is nice. You look nice.”

He closes his eyes and embarrassingly laughs.

“I like your shirt.” he slowly says, causing you to laugh.

“A compliment from the Roger Taylor? If I was any other girl I’d be on my knees by now.” you tease, giggling as you walk away.

Roger’s face goes serious at your words and then he laughs a bit, not knowing if you were serious or not - you were, but he doesn’t need to know that. You all make your way back to the hotel and you were suddenly reminded of your lost vibrator and your certain needs.

“We were all gonna go grab a drink at the lounge area downstairs. You wanna join?” asks Brian to you as you all walk inside.

Bingo! Perfect opportunity for you.

“Oh, I think I’m alright actually. I’m just gonna go read for a bit.”

Roger watches you with a confused look as you begin walking away.

“You sure?” he calls out.

“Yeah! Have fun!”

Finally. You’re all by yourself. You hurry to your room and jump on your bed. You unzip your pants and fling them off, along with your panties. You close your eyes and allow your fingers to slide between your soaked folds. You imagine Roger doing it himself and that helps a lot. You bite your lip as you slide a finger inside and groan.

“Roger,” you whisper out loud, but it doesn’t help.

You need more. You huff as you sit up and look around the room. Your eyes dart across Roger’s half opened bag as his drumstick is poking out. A sudden, crazy idea hits you. You stand up and walk over to it, your fingers picking it up. Roger’s fingers have touched this so many times and you're envious of them. You bite your lip and make your way back to your bed. You lie back down and decide when you’re done, you’ll wash it off. He’ll never know. You slowly bring the thicker part of the stick to your core and gently push it inside. Your back arches as you moan out, imagining Roger once more. It feels so good. You pick up the speed as your other hand works on your sensitive nub. It’s not like your vibrator, but it’s working. You feel yourself getting close.

“Roger,” you whisper out. “Oh, Roger. You feel so good.”

Your speed is picking up fast, when suddenly you hear the floor creak. Your eyes fly open as you remove the drumstick and look up fast. Your cheeks are red hot as you spot Roger standing in the doorway of the room, watching you. You fling the sheets over your lower half and your hearts beating fast. You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Roger,” you breathe out, embarrassed.

“Are you using my drumstick to… Masturbate with?” he asks, his eyes locked onto it beside you.

You close your eyes and fall back on the bed, covering your face and groaning.

“I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot! I’m so embarrassed right now! You weren’t supposed to be here!” you cry out.

“You said to not leave you out and I felt like I was, so I came back to hang out with you! Tell me what exactly you’re doing?” he asks fast.

“I forgot-”

You freeze and don’t dare to say anymore, but Roger wasn’t having that.

“You forgot what?” he asks moving closer.

“I forgot my… My vibrator. I needed it so bad and I had nothing and I saw your drumstick and I’m such an idiot! I’m so sorry.”

Roger laughs and continues watching you, his eyes glancing down at your thrown off panties on the floor.

“So, you forget your sex toy and you decide to use my drumstick as one?” he asks, understanding. “All you had to do was ask.”

Your whole body freezes as you slowly look over to him with a confused look on your face.

“Ask you what? To go buy me a sex toy?” you ask, not understanding.

“No,” he says, half laughing. “Ask me to help you.” he says slowly for you to understand.

“For you to sleep with me?” you whisper.

“Is it such a bad idea? You need relief, I need relief. I trust you, you trust me.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment as you’re in deep thought.

“Roger,” you whisper.

All you can do is nod. Roger’s face lights up as he walks up to you and sits on the side of the bed.

“Yeah?” he asks, making sure.

“Yeah.” you tell him, smiling.

Without waiting, Roger leans forward and kisses you hard. You lean into him as his hand tugs on your hair, making your groan.

“Lay back.” he whispers against you.

You do as he says and before you know it, he’s discarded all of his clothes and is hovering over you. You stare down at his length and bring your hand to pump him a few times. His eyes flutter closed as he jerks a bit at your touch.

“Does this feel weird?” you whisper to him.

“I think it feels amazing.” he teases, smiling.

You laugh and playfully nudge his arm.

“No, I mean this. Us. Right now.”

He looks down at you with a sweet smile on his face before leaning down and kissing you once more.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, so, no. Not to me.”

You’re taken back by what he had just said.

“You have?” you quietly ask him.

“I have.”

All you can do is smile as he kisses you and begins sliding your shirt over your head. His hand goes in between your legs as he rubs you.

“I heard you moaning my name.” he whispers in your ear. “Is that why you’re so wet?”

You close your eyes and nod as you groan.

“Good girl.” he tells you.

He spreads your legs apart even further and places himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asks you.

“You have no idea how sure I am.” you tell him, your finger grazing his bottom lip.

Roger smiles as he bites his lip and slowly slips inside of you. You both moan out as he slides further in and pauses.

“Better than my drumstick?” he asks, making you laugh.

“Much better.”

Roger slowly slides himself out of you and then slams back inside. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you cry out. He repeats this action several times before bringing his hand down to rub tiny circles on your nub.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the contact.

“Feel good?” he asks.

“Harder!” you cry out.

Roger slams into you while nuzzling his face in the side of your neck.

“You- You feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna last.” he says fast.

“Fuck, neither am I!” you moan out.

thrustthrustthrustthrust

“Where do you want me?” he asks quickly, his voice shaky.

“I wanna feel you inside me.” you whisper to him.

Roger practically growls by your answer as he picks up his speed and is suddenly crying out your name as his body jerks. He fills you up as you hold him close to you and hit your high as well. You’re both in the world of pure ecstasy as you hold onto one another and don’t want to let go. You’re seeing stars as he whispers against you.

“God, I love you.”

You hold still and open your eyes at his statement. Roger shakes his head, not meaning for that to have slipped out. He backs away and looks at you.

“What did you say?” you whisper.

He almost sadly smiles as he shrugs and repeats himself.

“I… love you. I have since I met you.”

“Roger,” you whisper, cupping his face with your hands. “I love you too.”

His eyes sparkle as he smiles and leans down to kiss you.

“Ya know,” he starts. “I wouldn’t mind watching you again with my drumstick.” he teases.

You lean your head back and laugh loudly, playfully shoving him off of you. Roger laughs and smiles as he watches you grin. The two of you confessed your love and you both have no idea that, a year from now, you’d be re-confessing them during your vows.

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#benhardyisdaddy #roger taylor #rogertaylor #ben!rogertaylor #rogertaylorxy/n #smut #fic #queen #John Deacon #Brian May #all you had to do was ask #benhardy!rogertaylor #roger taylor smut #borhap #roger taylor x you

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manage-mischief · 4 years

Text

Regulus Black and The Darkest Shadows: Chapter 4

Read on AO3 or FF.net

A/N: CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF PAST ALCOHOL ABUSE! END OF CHAPTER! I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Hope you all like it! Thanks so much for the kind reviews, and thank you to my amazing beta @leah-ravenanne !

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 4: Misery Loves Company

September 13th, 1978

The next morning, Regulus left the Slytherin dorms early to avoid any undesired interactions. He made his way to the Great Hall to find McDrew. When Regulus arrived, he scanned the long house tables for a sign of the beefy Quidditch Captain.

Regulus finally spotted McDrew sitting halfway down the Slytherin Table with a couple of other students. McDrew noticed him staring.

“Oi, Black! C’mon, I’ve saved you a seat!” He gave a great wave and a large, goofy grin. Regulus sat down awkwardly.

“Here, Reg, let me introduce you to some of my friends. They’re not all Slytherins, but, then again, not everyone can be so lucky.” he laughed, cheekily.

“Can it, Woody!” The dark, curly-haired girl sitting across from him rolled her eyes. She glanced at Regulus warily. Regulus had a feeling that McDrew had instructed his friends to be nice.

“I’m Wilhelmina Young. Hufflepuff,” she introduced herself hesitantly.

“Oh yeah. You’re in my year,” said Regulus. “We had Care of Magical Creatures together.”

Wilhelmina nodded, warming up a bit. “I didn’t know if you’d remember. We were partners when we had to take care of that nasty Flobberworm in 3rd year.”

Regulus cringed at the memory.

“And you know Marlene McKinnon, I’m sure. She’s a Gryffindor.” McDrew continued the introductions, gesturing to the pretty blonde girl on his right.

Marlene narrowed her eyes. Regulus gulped. He was quite aware of Marlene’s feelings towards him. “Yeah, we’ve met,” said Marlene. “Although, I’m more familiar with your brother. He and I were…close…for a bit.” Marlene grinned while the rest of the crew cracked up. Regulus didn’t know how to respond to that. Sirius had been quite...active...before he’d realized his true affections for fellow Gryffindor Remus Lupin. Regulus wondered if they were still together.

Marlene stared at him once again, sizing him up. “Well, I guess you’re alright. As long as you don’t go around preaching about the ‘Noble and Most Ancient House of Wankers’, we’ll get along fine.”

The girl sitting next to her chuckled and kissed her cheek. Regulus recognized her as fellow Slytherin Dorcas Meadowes. “Wotcher.” Dorcas nodded in greeting. “Sorry, ‘bout my girlfriend. She doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.”

Marlene playfully shoved her back and exclaimed, “You weren’t complaining about that at Madame Puddifoot’s last week!” The table erupted in laughter again, and Regulus joined them. He was shocked by how easily Marlene and the others had accepted him. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe, this whole turning his life around thing wouldn’t be so hard.

Just then, Regulus saw Woodrow wave towards the Great Hall Entrance. “Ah, here they are, late as always.”

Regulus looked over his shoulder to see who had arrived. His heart dropped. Three Ravenclaws were walking towards them. Two boys—one of whom Regulus recognized as George Fleet, the other he didn’t know—and one girl. A tall, brown-haired girl with clear plastic glasses and a fiery expression plastered on her face. Desdemona.

The three newcomers sat. Desdemona glared.

“Oi, Woody. I thought you were joking when you said Black’d be joining us,” Desdemona said, pretending as if Regulus wasn’t there.

McDrew shot Regulus an apologetic look. “Des, c’mon. He wants to change. We’re gonna help him!”

Desdemona huffed. “‘Wants to change,’ my arse! You know what his lot did just a few days ago? That little girlfriend of his hexed Broderick in the middle of the hallway for no bloody reason! Called ‘im a Mudblood!” She gestured to the boy sitting next to her, who suddenly became very interested in his bowl of porridge. Broderick was clearly not in the mood for confrontation, or for Desdemona’s angry tirade.

Regulus quickly defended himself. “I didn’t know anything about that! And, anyways, you turned Ginger’s hair green. You got her back.”

Desdemona pounded her fist on the table, causing silverware to fly into the air. “OH RIGHT! BRODERICK HAD TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL WING! But, my, my, I’m so sorry poor little miss Death Eater Queen had to suffer with green hair for a few hours. Poor baby!”

People around them had begun to stare. McDrew put a hand on the tall girl’s shoulder. “Listen, if Reg says he wasn’t involved, he wasn’t involved. I believe him. And you more than anyone should respect the fact that he’s trying to turn over a new leaf. As long as that’s the case, we’re going to help him do it. Understand?”

She looked like she wanted to retort, but thought better of it. She nodded, frowning, and muttered under her breath, “Fine.” Desdemona glared at McDrew, but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to Wilhelmina. “Can you pass the toast?”

The group of friends let out a collective breath of relief. Regulus got the feeling that McDrew was the leader of this little gang. At any rate, anyone who could convince Desdemona Lewis to tolerate Regulus was impressive.

---

After the meal ended, Regulus, Broderick, Desdemona, and Wilhelmina headed down to the dungeons for Potions. The atmosphere was still tense and a bit awkward.

“So,” Regulus said, trying to break the tension, “What d’you think Slughorn’ll have us make today?”

“I don’t like you, Black,” Desdemona snapped, not even looking at him.

“You don’t like anyone, Des,” Wilhelmina replied casually. Broderick laughed. Desdemona pouted.

“I just have high standards, that’s all,” she said haughtily.

“High standards? Is that what they’re calling ‘being a judgmental bitch’ nowadays?” Wilelmina teased back.

Regulus cracked a smile, but his amusement seemed to really set Desdemona off. Broderick stepped in front of her to try and hold her back. “Des,” he said in a soothing, deep voice. “Remember what Woodrow said? We’re trying to help Regulus. He doesn’t want to be like the rest of those Death Eaters anymore. He wants to change. Remember, Woodrow told us. We have to be empathetic. We have to understand.”

“Understand? I understand! I understand that his little cult wants to eradicate Muggle culture! They don’t think people like you and me deserve to be at Hogwarts, because my mum’s a Muggle, or because I can’t prove my dad was a wizard, or because I was raised by Muggles or whatever! And I’m supposed to just accept that he’s changed? I may be judgmental and choosy about who I trust, but it’s for good reason! Because if we put our trust in the wrong person, we could end up dead!”

Desdemona stormed off ahead of them, leaving Regulus feeling as awful as ever. Despite his dislike of Desdemona’s unpleasant attitude towards him, she was completely justified. She had every right to hate Regulus. Was he being an idiot? Was it really possible for him to cut ties with his past, when his past involved such hurt and pain?

Broderick patted him on the back. “Hey, mate. I’m Muggleborn, and I still have faith you can change. If we don’t allow people from You-Know-Who’s side to change their minds and join us, we’ll never win the war. It’s just Des. You know, she’s got quite a temper and, between you and me, a ton of anxiety. She’ll come around, though. And I can tell, you’re not as off-your-rocker as that Ginger chick.”

Regulus was shocked at how kind of a person Broderick was—how kind all of McDrew’s friends were. Here Regulus was, asking them to accept him despite the awful people he’d aligned himself with, despite the awful things he had done. And they were willing to give him a second chance he knew he didn’t remotely deserve.

Regulus forced a small smile, still considering how he was ever going to fit in with this new group.

---

Despite a rocky start, Regulus’s attempts to gain new friends had been growing more and more successful with each passing day. By the end of the week, Regulus had taken to studying in the library with Broderick during their free periods, had accompanied Woodrow and Marlene on an adventure to visit the House Elves in the Kitchens, and had even managed to have a thirty second conversation with Desdemona that had not ended in screaming or cursing.

By Friday night, Regulus whistled happily in his dorm while he put gel in his hair before the year’s first Slug Club dinner. He had felt freer and happier than he had in a long time.

As Regulus strolled towards Slughorn’s office, he heard a strange whimpering. Curious, he followed the noises down an unfamiliar corridor, where he discovered their source—Desdemona. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, quietly crying. She was dressed up for Slughorn’s party, in a midnight blue dress and silver shoes. However, her makeup was running down her face, ruining the aesthetic. Her fingers were tapping noticeably at her side. Regulus was about to back away from the scene when she looked up and noticed him watching. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“What the bloody hell are you looking at?”

“Um, I was just…going…I’ll leave you to it,” Regulus sputtered. He felt a pang of regret in his chest. Sure, he and Desdemona mixed about as well as oil and water. Sure, they had been hellbent on outcompeting and insulting each other for six years now. However, in the moment, she seemed vulnerable. He sighed, sure he would regret his next decision. But, he was trying to turn over a new leaf. And that included rectifying his past mistakes. Maybe, this could be a start.

Slowly, he approached her and slid down the wall, taking a seat onto the cool stone floor beside her. He awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Er…everything ok?” He winced at his tactlessness. Clearly everything was not okay.

For a moment, Regulus thought Des was going to snap at him. Then, her face melted and she took a deep breath. “Do you really want to know?” She asked, leaning her head back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. She tapped her fingers together more rapidly. Regulus didn’t quite know how to respond, so he simply nodded his head, inviting her to continue.

“My mum. She…ah…she died.”

Regulus’s heart sank for her. He was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to comfort the girl? “Oh. Sorry,” was all he could muster.

She shook her head and laughed emptily. “No. I shouldn’t be shocked. In fact, it’s a surprise it took her this long.”

“Was she sick?” Regulus asked.

“In a way.” Des furrowed her brow, as if considering whether to divulge any more private information. “I guess I can tell you. Since I’ve been ordered to be your ‘friend’ now.”

“I’ll ignore the sarcasm,” Regulus quipped, hoping to put her more at ease.

“What a shame,” she replied. After a brief pause, she continued: “My aunt always says it’s best to share your thoughts and emotions. ‘Don’t let yourself be controlled by them.’ I tell her that’s bullshit. If people knew half the things that went on inside my head…”

She paused, stopping herself. “Well, anyways,” said Desdemona, returning to the story. “My mum kind of…lost it…when my dad died. She had run away to the States to be with him. Given up everything. The family hardly approved, but she was head over heels. Hippies, the pair of them. Hence the name,” she gestured to herself.

Regulus chuckled. “Oh right. Desdemona Rain.”

“Awful, isn’t it? Anyways, dad died—I don’t know how, none of my family does. Mum wouldn’t tell them. After that, she brought me back to England. She started drinking. A lot. And then, one day, she left me with my aunt and uncle while she went to the store, and she never came back. I hadn’t heard from her in over ten years. Last my aunt had known, she was in some sort of rehab center up north. She…she didn’t want to see any of us…she didn’t want me to visit…” Desdemona took another deep breath. “The center…they—they called Aunt Eliza yesterday and said she had been released, then relapsed and OD’ed. I just found out.”

Regulus watched her as she attempted to steady her shaky breath. “I’m sorry. Do you…do you want me to walk you back to your dorm or something?”

“No, no,” she said, “Please don’t be nice to me. It makes me feel pathetic when you’re nice to me.”

Regulus laughed lightly.

“And besides,” she continued, wiping the makeup from under her eyes and smoothing her dress, “I can’t very well go back knowing that you’ll be hogging the time of whatever influential person Slughorn has brought for us this evening! Git.” Pulling out a small pocket mirror, she examined her reflection and dabbed away the remaining black streaks on her cheeks.

Regulus stood and hesitantly offered a hand to Desdemona. To his surprise, she took it and pulled herself up. Regulus awkwardly dropped her hand and spoke. “I’m sorry, Desdemona. Truly. I know that the things I’ve said and the people I’ve associated with in the past have hurt you. I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. I like to tell myself that I never really believed those things, that I was trying to fit in and make my family proud. But, I didn’t try to stop it. And any pain I’ve caused you—directly or indirectly…You don’t deserve to be bullied or put down because of who your parents were or how you were raised. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll say this: you’re an amazing witch. Probably better than any of the rest of us.”

“Wow. Can I get that in writing?” She joked. Then, seriously, she said, “Please, call me Des. I think I can allow it, seeing as you’ve unlocked a piece of my tragic backstory. I expect you to return the favor someday.”

“Come on, we’re already running late. Let’s go…Des.”

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bulbpix · 4 years

Text

If You Just Listened - Part 13

Public transportation in Gotham wasn't the best. After witnessing fights, drug deals, and countless other events on the buses and trains, you eventually came to the decision that walking was best. But today was an exception.

Once you'd dried your laundry and finished talking to Arthur last night, you carried your clothes to your apartment and settled in. Shortly after heading to bed, you suddenly heard what sounded like yelling and banging from the apartment under you... Arthur's apartment.

It didn't sound too serious, probably just a dispute between mother and son. Still, you felt bad. Arthur just had a very big day, his comedic debut. It shouldn't have ended with a fight. But, there was nothing you could do. You tucked yourself in, and waited for the yelling to die down.

This morning, Arthur told you he needed to do something important. Something very important. You assumed it had something to do with the fight last night. You were undeniably curious, but didn't want to press too much. It seemed like a personal issue.

"Can you come to the train station with me?" he asked. "I know it's a pain in the ass, but..."

You shook your head. "Arthur, we're friends. If you need me, I'm there." You crossed your arms, smiling at him. He smiled a bit, but you could tell he wasn't in his usual cheery demeanor today. "So where is this train station?"

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "That's the annoying part. It's in Elmont."

Of course it's in fucking Elmont.

You stopped yourself from groaning. Elmont was a neighborhood so far uptown from the city that there was no way you two could walk. You'd have to take the bus, which you did NOT want to do. At all. And it wouldn't be a short ride either - it would be an hour there and back, at the very least (And that's without traffic!). You dreaded the public transportation of Gotham. Arthur couldn't have asked you to go to a train station in downtown Gotham. Nooo, it's gotta be Elmont!

"Pfft, Elmont? Don't even worry about it. Let me just get myself together and I'll see you in the lobby, yeah?"

Arthur nodded, and began his way downstairs.

You shut the door behind you, grumbling as you went about your apartment. "Fucking Elmont."

And now here you were, on a crowded bus that smelled like an armpit. Luckily, you and Arthur were able to find seats. You tried to strike a conversation with him a few times, but it didn't seem like he was in the mood to talk today.

You furrowed your eyebrows. This behavior was weird, even for Arthur. Whatever happened last night must have really been serious. Although you weren't enjoying this trip in any sense, you truly wanted to be there for him. You sighed, staring at his knee. You wanted things to be better. For both of you.

Halfway through the ride, you felt your eyelids begin to grow heavy. You turned to Arthur. He seemed to be zoned-out, staring through the window. Still not in the mood to talk.

You yawned, deciding that if you were going to nap, this would be your chance. You adjusted your arms, sinking down into your jacket, falling into a surprisingly easy sleep...

"Excuse me?" "Mm...?

You slowly opened your eyes, looking towards the source of the voice. An older woman was leaning towards you from the seat across yours. You rubbed your eyes, trying to adjust them. You couldn't exactly remember what you were doing on this bus upon waking up.

"The last stop is coming up. Just wanted to let you and your friend know." She smiled, and turned back ahead.

My friend...? Oh. Right.

You felt a heaviness on your shoulder. You turned to see what it was, your face immediately being buried in a bunch of brown hair.

Arthur had fallen asleep on your shoulder.

You turned your head forward, wondering how he ended up there. He probably fell asleep sitting up, the rocking of the bus eventually knocking him to the side. Imagining it made you chuckle.

I wonder what his hair smells like...

Wait, what?

That was a weird thought. Why would you care how his hair smelled? What were you, some kind of creep? Who even thinks of that? You were just tired. This bus ride was long, and boring. Yeah, that was it. Your brain was probably just looking for a way to entertain itself. Stimulating the senses, or something. Yeah.

You peeked over at him. Still sound asleep.

It would be harmless, Arthur wouldn't even notice. Was it a crime to want to smell something? What, like using your nose was illegal? What harm could it do?

You slowly turned your head towards his, hesitating.

Arthur wouldn't care right?

Or would he?

This was weird...

Ah, you were just overthinking it.

Slowly, you sunk the tip of your nose into his chestnut locks. You closed your eyes, gently burrowing into his hair as you inhaled. He smelled smoky, yet sweet. Like a combination of cigarettes and honeysuckle. Where did the honeysuckle come from? Maybe it was his shampoo. You dug your nose deeper, nearly touching his scalp. He smelled earthy, and natural. Like he showered recently, but not too recently. If you could describe his scent, the only word that came to mind would be... comfortable. What a friend was supposed to smell like. Friend-scented? You smiled.

Arthur rustled, slowly picking his head up and nicking your nose.

Your face shot forward, your eyes shooting open. You folded your hands together tightly.

He adjusted his shoulders, his eyes still squinting from tiredness. He touched the top of his head, shifting his gaze towards you.

"Were you... sniffing me?" Crap. "What?" "What were you doing just now?" "I literally have no idea what you're even saying."

You buried yourself further into your jacket and scarf, your face now beet-red. He was asleep, you were so sure he was asleep. Was he awake the entire time? Did he just wake up? You prayed to God it was the latter.

"I could've sworn I felt you-" "Arthur, can you just focus, please? Look, we're already at the stop."

Arthur blinked a few times, clearly puzzled by the entire situation. He looked ahead, and sure enough, you had reached your destination.

The bus came to a slow, creaking halt at the station. The driver looked behind his seat, shouting, "Last stop! Everybody out!"

You and Arthur got up, stretching from the long ride. You stepped outside, walking him towards the station entrance. As you reached one of its glass doors, he took a deep breath and turned to you.

"I just want to say something," he sighed.

"Is this about the smelling thing? 'Cause I swear it wasn't what you think it was. I was looking out the window and your head was right there and I just needed to breathe like any human does so I inhaled through my nose but your hair was also in the way so it LOOKED like I was smelling your hair but I wasn't I was just turning my head and your head was also there and I was breathing but while my nose was-"

Arthur held his hand up, stopping your ramble.

"I believe you, I just wanted to say thanks for coming," he said flatly.

His calm attitude only served to make you all the more embarrassed. Shouldn't this be the other way around? Usually he was the flustered one.

"I have to get on my train now," he continued. "I'll see you tonight?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just stop by if you need me, why not."

Arthur gave a low-spirited smile, turning towards the entrance.

Before he could take a step, you grabbed him by his arm and yanked him into a tight hug. He tensed up, unsure of what to do.

You were hugging him. This wasn't his imagination.

This was... real.

Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around you.

"I don't know what's going on, but I can tell it's a lot. I'm here for you, bud. Whenever you need me." You squeezed him tighter.

Arthur was speechless. Never in his most fantastical dreams would he have imagined to have a friend like you. He felt... undeserving. He hadn't done anything to earn you as a companion. Why were you here? He shut his eyes tightly, feeling his body begin to shudder with grateful, yet sad laughter. He pulled you closer to him, unbelievably thankful to have you here in this moment.

You patted his back, used to his laughter by now. You sighed, hoping whatever he was dealing with would be over soon.

After a few minutes, Arthur began to calm down. He stood up straight, sniffling a bit and grinning at you.

"Thanks." "Don't mention it."

Arthur walked towards the train station entrance, pulling open a glass door. He stopped there, turning to you.

"Also, I was awake the whole time," he added, an amused smile on his face. "You're weird."

And with that, he disappeared into the station.

Your expression sunk, your face immediately going pale. You yanked your winter cap further down on to your head, wanting to bury yourself inside it as you ran towards a departing bus.

Did Arthur just call me weird? Arthur, of all people? I hate my life.

A/N - Looks like Y/N can be just as creepy. anyways - IM BAAAAAACCCCCKKK, AND FINALS ARE OVER!! GET READY FOR BACK TO BACK FICS GUYS - and sorry for the wait ehehehe....

@geronimosanna @theworldthroughmynikon @niniita-ah @captainohgod @memory-mortis @handsomeguyslover @bitterspectrum @sosearchingromeo @aesikupills @mardema @ajokeformur-ray

(i hope i got this tagging thing right? im still new to this lol)

#joker #arthur fleck #joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #joker x y/n #arthur fleck x y/n #joker x you #arthur fleck x you #slowburn #slow burn #If you just listened

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